


Upstairs, Downstairs at the Boyagio

by Leonard (leonardwriting)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bondage, Capitalism run amok, Commoditization, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, First Time, Gay Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Objectification, Oh and I suppose I should tell you about the relatively "normal" kinks like, Oral Sex, Pedophilia, Prostitution, Punishment, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, So really only read this if you want all that, Underage Rape/Non-con, and I suppose I should mention, and a very weird sexual use of "Eye of the Tiger", and an exploration of the psychological effects of sexual slavery at that age, extremely perverted children's stories, of the same young boys, of young boys, still of those young boys, through capitalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonardwriting/pseuds/Leonard
Summary: In an alternate world, children can be legally sold into slavery by their parents, with no restrictions on how they are treated.  A family who has fallen on hard times sells their boy to a fancy resort that specializes in high-priced vacations featuring sex with boys, and the child must adapt to the challenging, sometimes brutal surroundings.  It's intense and vividly imagined.  The story aims to be thoughtful about the experience the boy has in addition to describing the many sexual situations that surround him.
Relationships: David and many many customers, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	1. David Arrives

**Author's Note:**

> So, yes. This story depicts sex between adults (mostly men) and children (boys) between the ages of 5 and 14. The sex is often rough and unpleasant for the children, as are their surroundings, and the nature of this world and its impact on the participants is thoroughly explored. If this does not sound like fun to you, you should not read further. In particular, even if you enjoy stories of man/boy sex, if it's necessary that the boy enjoys it, you should look elsewhere. Needless to say, this is a dystopia and I don't endorse anything in it.
> 
> This story is not finished and I'm getting back to it after several years. Up to Chapter 3 is complete and I will post them over time; expect more coming soon-ish as I finish it.
> 
> Finally, while I tried to skim for formatting, the story was not originally published in this format, so please let me know if you find typos!

_The Boyagio is one of the grand resorts of the Exotic Strip. Catering specifically to those with an appetite for boys, visitors will find hundreds of children available for rent by the hour or by the night; in keeping with the general elegance of the establishment, they are referred to as “call boys”. Special arrangements are available for weekly rentals. The boys are exceptionally well-trained, versatile in sexual acts, foreplay, and role playing situations of all types. Those with darker desires can find them catered to in the East Wing. Visitors should be prepared for continuous parties with very loose sexual mores; frequent nudity; and possible public sex acts. Expect to be constantly titillated in an environment designed to keep you permanently aroused and paying._

_Rooms are luxurious and well-maintained. Penthouse suites are available. Additional amenities include a swimming pool, live theater (generally dancing and singing by resident boys), casino games, and much more on the expansive grounds covering several acres. Visit Johnny’s Ale & Brew in the main complex for excellent steak sandwiches._

\- Fodor’s Travel Guide

## Prologue

The "Exotic Strip," as it was known, this whole neighborhood, was _disgusting_. Mark Yefron had never seen anything so debauched in his life. The Exotic Strip was filled with giant palaces, each a different kind of brothel. Strip shows, dances, and sex of all kinds to those who paid. Giant screens were filled with images of barely-clad men, women, and children in all kinds of poses. Grimy side streets were filled with the same, no doubt cheaper but less well-maintained. One side street seemed to have nothing but run-down buildings with giant billboards of young girls. Another seemed to involve lots of pictures of women with animals. He looked to his wife and to his children, and wished with all his might that they did not have to see this.

But they went on because they had to.

The place he was looking for was on the main strip, not a grungy side street. It was a palace, as elegant as anything else here. Mark saw the sign before anything else, a bright jumbotron with lights and huge cycling images:

**The Boyagio**

**Paradise With Boys**

Short videos played underneath the sign. A smiling blond boy, wearing nothing but a speedo, balancing on one leg with his other limbs stretched out in a star pattern. Then a brown-haired child on his knees, looking up with sad eyes at the camera, mouth slightly open. A close-up of a face, turned up to look at someone, a man's hand stroking the boy's cheek; the giant boy's face blinked, and seemed to gulp. As if transfixed, the whole family stared. Again the video changed, to a boy, lips slightly parted, eyes looking up at someone towering over him. Then a boy in nothing but his underwear, his hips bent, his pelvis jutting out, his cock clearly outlined through the white briefs. Then a dance routine, all the boys in speedos. It played and played on this debauched street. Underneath the jumbotron were bright signs:

Hotel - Theater - Dancing - Bar - Games - Role Play - Sports - Pool - Hot Tubs - Restaurants - Special Pleasures.

The Boyagio was a huge complex; while its front was here on the strip, it clearly stretched back for  _acres_ . The family stepped up into an opulent plaza. In the center was a large water fountain, glowing with colored lights shining from underneath the water. Around the fountain were statues of naked boys, all prepubescent, detailed with skin tone and muscle tone. Each was posed in some special way. Some were simply happy boys: one posed with his arms bent to flex his muscles; another with his arms splayed out joyously; another with a huge grin, his tongue stuck out at the other boys. One smiling stone boy seemed to be chiding the other, finger extended in a waggling motion. Some boys were more explicit: one with his arm around the next, snuggling close to his neighbor; two more kissing deeply, stone tongues intertwined, while the one next to them, seemingly jealous, looked away and stroked himself; one with his hand out, stroking the chest of the next boy over. One boy was kneeling, mouth open, tongue sticking out, looking with a blank expression at some hidden person towering overhead. Closer inspection revealed more and more sexual details: one with his hand casually around the next boy‘s dick and seemingly stroking it, one with a finger up the next child‘s ass, one that seemed to have cum sprayed on his cheeks.

As the family watched, water gaily shot forth from the statues’ mouths and penises into the pool. The water sparkled and splashed in patterns: a pure blue stream would arc out from one boy's mouth, then a pink stream from another boy's dick, then on and on. Sometimes all the boys would "pee" together, sometimes they would all "spit" together, glowing flowers of water playing out in the center. Then it might start to alternate, drumming out perfect patterns of water hitting stone, or it might go in a loop, liquid shooting out of one dick, then the next, then the next in rapid succession around the circle.

And then there was the building itself. Giant columns, stone steps leading up to three heavy wooden double doors. At the base of the stairs were several flat-screen TVs that showed images of what went on inside. Boys dancing in unison. A boy sitting on a man's lap, throwing his head back against the man's chest. Two boys kissing deeply. A man slipping money into a boy's speedo. A man walking with a boy into a private hotel room.

"Let's go back," whispered Mark's wife. "Please."

Mark looked at his wife, Marta, and then at his two boys, Seth and David. They were staring open-mouthed at the screens. He hadn’t told any of them how he’d heard of this place, of course. How, in a moment of weakness, he’d sought it out, discovered its existence. How he’d dreamed of coming here. He was ashamed, and regardless, he never did come, especially once his own children were born. Despite his many weaknesses, he‘d never molested a child. Instead, alas, he’d turned to gambling.

"We have no choice," he said. "Wait here." And he ascended the steps and went through the doors.

* * *

It was a lavish interior, more opulent than anything Mark had ever seen. The lobby itself was huge. Towards the side was a large desk, and he went there.

"Checking in, sir?" said a small voice. Mark looked down. It was a boy, maybe eleven years old, standing behind the desk. Mark looked down the counter, and saw that it was staffed entirely by boys.

"Er," he said intelligently. He mentally collected himself. He would need to have everything together if this was going to work. "No," he said. "I'm looking for Mr. Johnston."

"Ah," said the boy. “Can I ask what you are here for?” His language was astonishingly precise and mature. Trained.

“Uh, a sale.”

"Let me see if he is available." His young hands picked up the phone and started to dial.

Mark was glad for the chance to get his thoughts in order. He started to take in the lobby. Elevators leading to the hotel rooms. A giant map of the grounds. Signs for the bar, the theater, the game room, the show room, the restaurant. The whole place seemed to be staffed with boys. The lobby was mostly empty at this hour, although he saw a man in a suit come out of the elevators and walk towards the restaurant. A boy was walking across the lobby in the hotel uniform. But looking closer, Mark realized that the uniform was not typical at all. It looked like what a hotel attendant might wear, but it was skin-tight. Mark could see the definition around the boy's arms and belly, his shoulder blades, his butt... and even his genitals. Mark averted his gaze.

"Mr. Johnston is available to see you," said the boy, breaking Mark's reverie. "I can show you the way." He stepped out from behind the desk and Mark realized that this child was dressed in the same way, his penis clearly outlined through his tight pants. On his feet, the boy had on nothing but black socks. He started padding through the lobby to the elevators, and Mark followed, staring at his outlined legs and butt. The boy pressed an elevator button and it arrived. The two stepped in, and the boy swiped an employee badge, then hit the button marked "16". The elevator moved up.

Eventually they exited and Mark was taken to a secretary. "Billy," said his escort, "this man is here to see Mr. Johnston."

"Thanks," said the boy who was called Billy. "Your name, sir?" Mark could not help notice the subservient way the boy said "sir".

"Mark Yefron," he said.

"Very good, sir. If you'll have a seat."

Mark did. He sat there, waiting uncomfortably, watched over by the boys who were there. In the offices, he realized that most of the people working were adults. But almost everyone facing the outside world was a boy.

A big man wearing a suit came out of one of the corridors, then. "Are you Mr. Yefron?" he asked. Mark nodded. "Leon Johnston," said the man. "Come in to my office. What can I do for you?"

It was a corner office. There were floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the courtyard and the whole of the Exotic Strip, a breathtaking view filled with neon and bright lights. "How can I help you?" asked the man.

Mark hesitated. He'd come all this way, and now... it had to be done, but... Mr. Johnston seemed to be waiting patiently, and so Mark closed his eyes, tried to regain his composure. Then he said, with less confidence than he'd hoped, "I'm here to make a sale."

Mr. Johnston nodded. "One of your slaves?" he asked.

"No," said Mark. "I mean, I don't... I don't keep..."

"I understand," said Leon Johnston. "Your son, then."

Mark nodded.

"Well, Mr. Yefron, I understand how hard this can be. Let us try to move through it as quickly as possible." He rifled through his desk to remove some pages. "How old is the boy?"

"Eleven," said Mark.

Mr. Yefron nodded. "You understand that a boy so old is worth less to us, I assume?"

"Yes," wheezed Mark, "but still something?"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnston. "Is the boy showing signs of puberty yet?"

"No," replied Mark.

"Mmm-hmm," said the man. "All right. I'd like to inspect him."

Mark nodded, and shivered. He was sure Mr. Johnston could see that. "He's outside," said Mark.

"I'll come down with you," said Mr. Johnston.

* * *

The two men arrived outside. Leon Johnston stayed at the top of the stairs while Mark descended to his family. "Oh, Mark," said his wife. "You changed your mind?"

Mark shook his head. "He wants to inspect him."

"Mark, please."

Mark shook his head again. "Seth," he said. "Come with me."

The boy, eyes downcast, came up the stairs and went inside with the men. As he walked up the stairs, his thoughts were dark with memories of his parents' fights over the past few weeks. A deep sense of doom eclipsed his mind. He still did not really understand what was supposed to happen to him, but they'd told him enough that he knew to be scared.

The big man, Mr. Johnston, took out a key and opened up one of the adjacent conference rooms. It was luxurious, with emerald green carpeting and emerald outlines on the wood paneling.

"All right," he said, once they had entered. "Seth, you are quite beautiful."

"Uh, thanks," said the boy, quietly.

Mr. Johnston continued to look him over appraisingly. "This is the heart of the business," he commented to Mark. "Can't leave this up to anyone else." He reached out his hands and held them on Seth's neck, feeling around the neck, then around his head. He grabbed the boy’s hands, felt them. "Good. Soft hands, warm, moist," he said.

The man reached his hands up to Seth's face, putting his fingers on the side of his face. "Very good, boy," he said. "You didn't flinch at all." He reached in his thumbs to separate Seth's lips to see his teeth, then his thumbs started to feel along the bottom of the teeth.

"Mrph," exclaimed the boy. "Whaph are you doeing?"

"Mmm," said the man, ignoring the boy. "Strong teeth, but one of them is chipped."

"Seth fell off his bike a year back," replied Mark.

"Well," said Mr. Johnston, "we need to have that fixed. It won't do to have any sharp edges, not in there!" He laughed, and Mark blushed when he realized what the man was talking about.

"Take off your shirt," said Mr. Johnston. Seth paused a moment, and complied. Seth gasped as the cold hands touched his belly. Those hands were all over his torso, his chest, his arms. The massive fingers circled around his nipples and pinched them slightly, feeling them grow firmer. Mr. Johnston held Seth's arms up and looked under the armpits, and he let out another "hrm". He turned the boy around and felt along the boy's back, his hands prodding along. The boy flinched a few times but mostly held still.

"All right, pants off," said Mr. Johnston.

The boy hesitated. "Now, please," said the man shortly.

"Please, son," said his father.

The boy took off his pants, and those cold hands went all over his legs. "Good muscles," said the man. Then he reached up, grabbed the boy's underwear, and pushed it down.

"Hey!" said the boy.

"Shut up," said the man. He gave another "hrm" again, then went around to the boy's backside, held his butt cheeks apart. Finally he stood up.

"I'll tell you right now," said Mr. Johnston, "that the most I can offer for this one is about forty thousand. He's already starting to develop pubic hair, Mr. Yefron."

"Forty thousand? That's not enough," said Mark.

"Then the boy can put his clothes back on. I'm sorry, but this boy is simply not worth more. I could shave him for a while, but it will show. And besides, a two-year contract? Once he reaches fourteen he’d be free. That’s the best I can do."

Mark sighed. "Isn't there anything else?"

Mr. Johnston looked thoughtful for a moment. "That other boy was what, seven?"

Mark's face went white. "He's not for sale."

"Well, of course I do not know your exact financial circumstances. However, I am unwilling to buy this boy for any more than what I have stated, and possibly less depending on how he performs. Your other boy, at seven, with some indication of how he might grow up... he could be worth as much as two hundred thousand dollars." The large man turned to Seth. "Go on, boy, put on your clothes." Seth, humiliated and naked, pulled his underwear up and started to pick up his other clothing.

"Two hundred thousand?" asked Mark. "How soon..."

"I could write the check out to you today. Or transfer the funds electronically." The man paused for a moment, then went on casually. "We can also help you with tax issues. If you treat the boy as an investment, then you can deduct costs of raising him over his lifetime. That includes food, any schooling, the cost of buying a larger house, toys and games, medical costs, maybe even an extra car if you can justify it. After we're done, the money will be practically tax-free." The man knew what he was doing; the talk of money dehumanized the whole process. "Tell me, Mr. Yefron, is the money sufficient for your needs?"

"It is," he replied.

"Then talk with your wife. Your boy would be released when he turns 14 as stipulated by law. I can assure you that most of our... alumni have comfortable lives after they are released. Some stay and work here as supervisors or in administrative roles. Others go into the... hospitality industry in other roles. Some find themselves supported by former lovers. Frequently, boys of the same age become close friends and stick together when they age out." He paused. "It is not what you wanted for your son. It would not be a pleasant time for him here, not at all. But the remainder of his life would be comfortable and normal. While here he would receive excellent medical care and he would have no financial worries."

Mark started to leave, Seth behind him. The man put a hand on Seth's shoulder. "I guess this life won't be yours," he said to the boy. "You should be happy." Seth nodded numbly, and the entourage left.

There was a shouting match in front of the resort complex then. Marta Yefron, tired, exhausted from the past months of financial scrambling, finally gave in when her husband said simply, "both boys will be sold to pay the debts if we don't do this, and we won't know where they end up."

Mark returned to the room with David in tow. The boy's knees were shaking so violently that they were knocking against each other as he stood in that room. Unlike his older brother, David hadn't been told anything of what was to come.

_I have to be strong_ , thought David. He didn't understand what was happening. He knew that something was supposed to have happened to Seth. Seth had been scared. He'd been crying a lot, which he didn't do, because he was a big kid. The past few weeks, sometimes Seth had been extra nice, other times he'd been mean for no reason. But around his parents he'd always acted tough, saying that he wanted to do this, that he'd do it for the family, that he'd be a man.

David had heard only a little bit. He'd heard that Seth was going to be a slave. David knew about slaves. People who had to do work for other people. Who belonged to them. Seth had been going to be a slave to help the family.

But now David was here instead, and David had to do it. David had to be the man, to be like his older brother, to sacrifice for the family.  _I have to be strong_ , he thought again.  _I have to help daddy_ .

Again Mr. Johnston came up, again his cold hands felt a Yefron boy’s warm neck. He cupped the ears, opened the mouth and looked inside. Mark watched as the big man put a finger in David's mouth and told the boy to suck it like a lollipop. Mr. Johnston, his hand on the back of the boy's head, pushed, forcing the finger down the boy's throat as he started to gag. "Keep sucking!" said the man. Eventually he withdrew the wet finger and wiped it on the boy's clothes.

The father stood, watching, silently, head downcast. Praying, perhaps, although it was hard to tell.

"Take your clothes off, boy," said the man.

David shook his head. Was he supposed to do that?

"Mr. Yefron. Please tell your son to remove his clothes."

Mr. Yefron kept his head down, looking to the ground, at his feet. He seemed to come to a decision and he raised his head, tears coming down his cheeks. "Do it, Davey."

The boy looked shocked at his father. Then he shook his head. "I won't do it!"

Mr. Johnston slapped him. "You will, boy!" The boy's cheek was red from the slap. He started to cry, looking to his father. Mark turned away from his son, and Mr. Johnston walked over and yanked the shirt up over the crying boy's head. There was no resistance.

"Good arms, good hands," said the man, running his own hands along each of them. "Good amount of meat on them. Well-defined. Nothing bony, but not fatty either. Very nice stomach. Good definition, nice innie belly button, nice chest with strong definition as well. Soft, but firm, not flabby. Skintone is excellent, not pasty at all. Nice back, not too curved, clear shoulder blades, very nice indeed."

"All right, boy, shoes and socks now."

David removed them, and the man had the boy sit down. "Good, good. Nice toes, pleasantly long and with good big toenails. Excellent ankles. This will do nicely. Pants, boy."

David shook his head again. So again he was slapped. "You do it or I do it, boy."

David stared up for a moment at the huge man staring at him, and then he undid his belt and lowered his pants. He stepped out of them slowly. The man knelt, started running his hands across the legs. "This is an excellent child, Mr. Yefron. You might get the two hundred thousand after all." He grabbed the shaking knees one at a time. "Strong knees, not bony at all. Good thighs, strong and well-formed. Lower legs have great definition, slender and firm." Mr. Johnston pulled down the boy’s underwear.

David didn't understand why the man did that, why he wanted to look at those parts of his body. Maybe it was like a doctor, making sure he was strong enough to work when he was a slave?

He was being touched in places that only his parents had ever touched him before. It was a strange feeling when this man did it. He felt like less than he was before. These were places that were just his, that were private, this was his body, and instead the man touched him and looked at him and said weird things about him, judging him. It made him feel weird. It made him feel like he had no worth. Like he wasn't a person anymore.

"Yes, good. Good good good." He went around to the back, looked at the ass, held open the butt cheeks. "Very good. Mr. Yefron, you've raised a lovely child. I will offer you the full $200,000. It's very rare that I am so generous, but I always try to deal fairly with my clients."

The man nodded.

"Do you accept?"

David looked at his father. And his father turned away, and said, simply, "yes."

* * *

The paperwork was drawn up and a check was written. The boy simply waited in a reception area, sitting on a metal folding chair and playing on his phone. He didn't know what had happened, didn't understand much except that his father was sad. There were... so many other boys here, all dressed strangely, and they all seemed to avoid looking at him.

At some point the boy was taken outside to say goodbye to his mother and his brother. That was when he started crying. He'd tried to be brave, tried to hold it in, but his mother was crying, and Seth was crying, and he couldn't take it anymore. By now it was sunset, and the hotel was much busier. Many of the people passing by, almost all men, looked askance at the family scene. But then Mr. Johnston came outside, and he said that it was time to go.

David said, "No, I won't." He didn’t want to be strong anymore, he wanted to stay with his family, he didn’t like what had happened in there...

But Mr. Johnston simply picked the boy up and started heading up the stairs. His mother shouted, "no, stop!" He saw her rushing after him, but his father held her back, and then he was through the doors and they were gone.

## Bidding for David

Mr. Johnston took David back to his office. He took his cell phone away. He said, simply, "The next few days will be very unpleasant. I'm sorry. You work for me now, and you'll do what I tell you to do. You will get training later, but for now, your services are needed elsewhere.”

"Come with me," he said, and grabbed the boy's wrist. “We’ll see how lucky you are tonight.”

David was led into a restaurant, until they came up to an older, greying man having dinner. A small brunette boy was perched on his lap. The child seemed to be wearing an old-style school boy uniform, with short, grey trousers that went only a short way down his thighs; big grey socks coming up almost to the knees; a grey shirt, striped tie, and a striped blazer on top of it. The two were eating together happily and smiling, with the old man making airplane noises as he brought in the food to the boy's mouth.

"Arthur?" said Mr. Johnston. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt."

"No interruption," replied the old man, turning around with the boy still on his lap. "What is it, Leon?"

"We have a new arrival," said Mr. Johnston. "I wanted to come to you first, see if you were interested, before the usual circus."

"Oh," said the man called Arthur. "Oh my, you are a pretty one," he said to David. He and the schoolboy stood up, and then he gently sat the uniformed boy back on the chair. The boy stayed quiet, looking on politely. The child kept his back straight, although he fiddled anxiously with his tie.

Arthur reached out his dry, wrinkled old hand and stroked it gently across David's chin. David felt foreign flesh against his own once again that day, and he shivered. "Oh, dear," said Arthur to Mr. Johnston. "He's not used to this at all, is he?"

"No, he's as fresh as they come. That's why I'd hoped you might be his guide."

The old man shook his head. "It will be a rough first night for him." He paused, looking David in the eyes. Then he put both hands on the shaking boy's shoulders and intoned, "David, I am so sorry. I wish I could give you this week, I really do." He paused. "I hope you will forgive me, but I have business in Singapore and I simply must be there."

"Too bad," said Mr. Johnston. "The other guests, they haven't had a virgin in a while."

"I know," said Arthur. "It's a game to them, you know. They like to play, to see if they can break the child before your training. They're disgusting animals."

"You're sure you can't take him?"

"Always the businessman," smiled Arthur sadly. "Asking me to pay you money to save the boys in your care. You could save them yourself, you know."

"But that's not my business."

"Indeed."

The old man paused, then he reached out with his dry hands and settled them on the back of David's head, pulling it forward. He landed a big kiss on the forehead, then held him close. "Be strong, little man," he whispered to the boy. "This too shall pass. This too shall pass." Then he let go and went back to his seat, where the uniformed child slid smoothly out of the seat. Over the older man’s head, the child mouthed “good luck” to David.

Arthur sat down, and then the boy climbed up on his lap, the old man positioning him just as he'd been before. He ran a hand down the boy's face, from the temple down to the chin, and the boy smiled happily. It seemed that the child wiggled his backside a little bit on the old man’s lap, bringing a kind smile to the man’s face. Soon they had resumed eating.

Mr. Johnston led David away, and once again the boy raced to keep up with the man pulling at his arm. They went through hallway after hallway. First they went through the main lobby, where Mr. Johnston pulled David up to the front desk. "Tell the regulars we have a new acquisition in the theater," he said. Then it was back to the hallways.

David was handed off to a photographer while Mr. Johnston left to attend to “other matters.” The boy was posed again and again: standing, sitting, lying down. The photographer posed David sitting on the ground, knees pulled up, arms around his legs, looking up at the camera. The photographer posed David standing, casually lifting a portion of his shirt, revealing some skin. It took half an hour.

And then David was back on the metal folding chair, waiting.

He wondered what he'd have to do now that he was a slave. Would he have to do a lot of chores? Would he have to go to school a lot? David realized that he'd never figured out what Seth was going to actually do, and now he didn't know what he was going to do. Would he be allowed to play at all? Would he get to talk to his family? He hadn't thought about any of this...

Now David was all alone. No friends, no family. He sat there on the chair, with no idea what was going to happen next.

Mr. Johnston finally returned, and then it was back downstairs to the lobby. David was astonished to see himself on the television screens throughout the building, the photo of him with his knees up, staring up at the camera, looking vulnerable, and the photo with a bit of skin showing:

Hot! New!

David, Virgin Boy

Completely inexperienced

Auction at 8pm

Theater

The man took David outside into the twilight. The hotel complex encircled a large swimming pool, which was well-lit and seemed to have several people still swimming or relaxing on chairs. David looked to his side and saw a man on a beach chair with a boy in nothing but a speedo lying on top of him --- no, draped over him would be a better description. The man's arm encircled the boy's shoulders, his hand laid into the small of the boy's back. David looked closer, and realized that the two were kissing.

Mr. Johnston pulled harder on his arm and David was forced to follow.

They got to a brightly-lit entrance that read "Theater" with glowing lights and neon outlines of boys in the middle of dancing. It was into the theater that Mr. Johnston took the boy.

The room was dimly lit with purple and orange lights, except for the large raised stage in the front which had bright lighting. Circular tables were spread throughout, filled largely by men, many of whom seemed to have their hands at their privates. Those who didn't were clapping along to the beat. Waiters, boys in skin-tight uniforms, were serving drinks and food and taking orders.

On stage, boys danced. They wore nothing but tight costumes around their crotches, and they moved their hips in mesmerizing patterns. There seemed to be one blond boy in the center doing most of the dancing, whom David would later learn was named Clint. The other boys were backup dancers. In unison, they curled their backs to arc their taut stomachs forward, then they turned abruptly and held their butts in the air, then they were all on the floor, legs sticking up, privates clearly outlined through the costumes. Clint had come out into the crowd, and seemed to be whispering into one man's ear... or maybe biting it?... and then the man stuck some money in his underwear, or whatever it was. Then Clint was on to another man, sitting in the man's lap and earning another tip, while, in unison, the backup dancers paired off and kissed on stage.

David stood rooted to the spot, stunned at what he saw. Those boys were like him. Clint looked like he was nine years old. He didn't understand what was happening.

And then it was over, and then Mr. Johnston was dragging him on to the stage.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" he shouted. A table of women replied, "and ladies!" "And ladies," he added. David was white as a sheet. He was on stage in front of all these strange and scary people. Everyone was looking at him, even the boys in the room, who had... expressions he couldn't make out. He realized that he was the only boy in the room with clothes.

"Are you having a good time?" asked Mr. Johnston.

The crowd roared approval. "Are you going to give us half off the boys?" shouted one.

"Come now, my good sir," said Mr. Johnston. "We don't do half off around here, when we have the best merchandise in town!" He laughed. "Speaking of, I am pleased to introduce our newest acquisition. His name is David." David felt the man pulling his arm up. The crowd clapped.

David looked out at the crowd of men. The hooting and the cheering echoed in his ears, and he felt his heart beating in his chest. His teeth chattered in fear, clacking together as he shook. His family was gone, he was all alone. But he had to be brave. He had to do this for daddy. What were they going to do to him? What was going to happen?

This wasn't what he'd expected. He thought he'd be cleaning or something. Why was he in front of all these people?

"Show us what's underneath!" someone shouted.

"That depends on the generosity of the crowd!" replied Mr. Johnston. "Come now. First, let's hear David's story." He knelt down at David's side and handed him a microphone. "David, tell us where you come from."

David stood there mutely. He felt the sweat trickle down his neck.

"Come on, David."

"Greensboro."

"What state?"

"North Carolina." He did have a southern twang to his voice.

"What do your parents do?"

"My dad works in, um, insurance. My mom does part-time office work."

"What grade were you in?"

David started to cry on stage, the tears flowing down his cheeks, his high-pitched sobs wafting through the room. "Answer the question, David," said Mr. Johnston.

"I-I just finished second," mumbled David between sobs.

"What did you like to do for fun?"

David was still sniffling, but he managed to say, "I played baseball. And video games. And I liked to draw, and play with my older brother."

"What was your favorite subject in school?

"S-social studies. And gym."

"David," said Mr. Johnston seriously, looking him in the face, "have you ever had sex before?"

There was silence while David sniffled into the microphone. And then he said, "what's that?"

The crowd erupted. There was clapping and even some cheers. "Show us his cock!" shouted one man. "Show us his ass!" shouted another. Several of the men were whistling, and a few seemed to pat their laps as if to invite David to sit in them.

"Now now," said Mr. Johnston. "Tell you what. The waiters are going to bring around some hats. Those hats find three hundred dollars in them, and the shirt comes off. Five hundred, and the pants go too. Eight hundred and you get the underwear, plus whoever gives the most gets to keep it. David won't be needing it anymore." More cheers. "A thousand," Mr. Johnston paused for effect, "and you can see the cherry itself. Know exactly what you'll be bidding for."

The other boys set out with hats. Meanwhile, Mr. Johnston turned to David. "Take off those shoes and socks, David," he said. "Those are free for the nice folks in the audience."

David looked out at the crowd with wide eyes, and up at Mr. Johnston. Finally he leaned down. He took off his shoes one at a time, and then his socks.

Mr. Johnston put his hands on David's shoulders and maneuvered the barefoot boy to stand next to him and in front of him. His hands went along David's shoulders, ruffled his hair, felt along his cheek. They were calculated maneuvers, of course, to rouse the desires of everyone in the debauched audience.

"We've got three hundred!" shouted a boy's voice, and some more cheers came out. "Shirt! Shirt! Shirt! Shirt!" the crowd started to chant as David stood in front of them.

Mr. Johnston leaned down and whispered in David's ear while the loud cheering went on. "Take it off."

David shook his head.

"Take it off, or I take it off for you," said the man.

Slowly David reached down. His fingers closed over his shirt, and he raised his arms and pulled it off over his head. It revealed his nicely-defined stomach and his small little nipples. The crowd was clapping and cheering. The boy sat there, shoulders rising with each heavy breath, shirt held tightly in one hand. Mr. Johnston grabbed the other arm and twirled the boy like a dancer, showing off his smooth back, his shoulder blades. With a tug on the boy's arm David was suddenly next to the man, facing him, and he felt the man's hand running over his back, showing the audience just how silky it was. Then the man raised David's two arms, showing off his armpits, turning the boy around in a circle.

"Boy is beautiful!" came someone's shout. "That skin as soft as it looks?" called another. "Come to my bed!" "Want some cock, boy?" "You're gonna get the fucking of your life tonight!" The shouts swirled around David, the crowd working itself up into a frenzy.

"We're at five hundred!" came one of the boy waiter's voices.

"You know what that means," said Mr. Johnston.

"Please no," came the boy's meek voice. "Please no."

Mr. Johnston stared at him, and the boy's head slumped. He limply dropped his shirt, then used his hands to undo his belt, and the button of his jeans, and his zipper. Down they went, revealing his briefs and his smooth, smooth legs.

There were more whistles. "Come sit in my lap, boy!" came a shout.

Mr. Johnston took his hands and encircled David's legs, slowly working their way down. "Like my silk pajamas," he said to the crowd. "But warmer."

There was laughter as the crowd watched the boy standing there in nothing but his underwear, crying again. "Please stop!" wailed David. "Please don't give him more money!"

Of course it was futile by then, and if it hadn't been, David's pleas for mercy sealed it. Soon they got to eight hundred and the underwear came off. "Who put in the most?" shouted Mr. Johnston. After one of the boys indicated someone, he just said, "Of course it was Jacob," and he threw the underwear across the room at the man.

Again Mr. Johnston twirled David by his arm, his cock and balls swinging around as he did so. He cupped the small balls. "Look what I have!" he said.

And then they crossed a thousand, and David was forced to grab his ankles, and he was turned around and Mr. Johnston grabbed his asscheeks and spread them wide, showing the tight virgin hole to everyone there.

Of course, David had taken off clothing for people before. He'd been naked in front of Seth and his parents. He'd started to shower on his own recently, but he still sometimes took baths with his parents around. And he'd taken off his clothing for the doctor before, too.

He thought this would be the same. Just take off his clothes in front of other people. But there were so many of them, and they were strangers, and they were looking at him. He felt alone and exposed and vulnerable.

Even though this young child didn't understand what the feeling meant, he still felt it. That his personal body was not really his own. That it was being used for these men and their pleasure. That who he was, what he thought, what he felt, all of it had become nothing, irrelevant, as his whole existence as a human being boiled down to people looking at his slender boy's body. No, David didn't understand it, but he felt it inside, something, some sense that he'd lost something about who he was.

"So," said Mr. Johnston. "Let's start the bidding for David's first hour ever with this fine establishment. Tonight and tonight only, anything goes so long as the marks disappear within a week and there are no permanent injuries. Who wants to start us off at five hundred dollars?"

"Five hundred!"

"A thousand!"

"Fifteen hundred!"

David stood there, naked and exposed, rough voices calling out ever higher numbers. He closed his eyes, trying to take himself from this place and these feelings.  _I have to be strong_ , he thought.  _I have to be strong for daddy_ .

It wasn't long before it was only the really wealthy in the room who were still bidding, those who could really pay for the privilege of a first time. The kind of people who fly in first class without thinking twice, or who have their own jets. But a first time? An eight-year old who knew nothing of sex? Even to those who dealt in boys, this was a delicacy.

The bidding ended at eleven thousand, five hundred dollars. David heard a click and felt cool leather around his neck. Mr. Johnston handed the leash to the winning bidder, a large man in jeans and a leather jacket. "Let's go," said the man's deep voice. He had an accent, maybe Australian.

"Wait, my clothes," said David.

The room broke out in laughter. The man pulled on the leash, and David fell over on the stage. More laughter. "Get up!" said the man in that deep baritone. "Get up or I'll pull you like this."

David scrambled to his feet, and was pulled out of the room. As he left, he heard Mr. Johnston announce, "all right, let's start the bidding on David's  _second_ hour."


	2. First Night, Part 1 (original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on Ao3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about getting used in manipulative, often violent ways; it is about how the boy experiences this and adapts to it, how he interprets his experience, and how others at the Boyagio interpret his experience. Of all the chapters, this is one of the most cruel, one that goes into the darkest recesses of the prostitution of boys. If this kind of manipulative power over boys sounds interesting to you, then you will enjoy this chapter. If not, you might want to skip it. Although characters will return later, it won't be essential. Each section has story codes. Skim or skip sections that sound unappealing if you want, although you should tune in for the sections between customers.
> 
> This chapter also has - and there is no other way to put this - a hell of a lot of sex. It is what makes financial sense for the Boyagio, and it is meant to capture the overwhelming first night that David has at this place. I suggest sipping from this story: read one part at a time, let it sink in. Otherwise it might feel overwhelming for you just as it does for David.
> 
> Later chapters will be about David's training. He will even start making friends and exploring the world of the Boyagio. In other words, it is a lot less brutal, although it is still cold and business-like. Depending on your tastes, you may want to pick up there.

The real reason I like it is because this is when you can get under their skin and make a real relationship. Think about it. By the time these kids have been trained, by the time they've already been fucked by a bunch of guys, they're prostitutes. They've got the same defenses, the same way of just disconnecting from the situation and letting it happen to them. You can't connect with them, because they're tuning you out. But get in early and you can make a real relationship. You can fuck them up good, and then every time you see them after that, you get right under their skin. I fucked five boys when they were virgins at the Boyagio, and they're still my favorite kids to go and rent out for a night and torment a bit cause they feel it. They're actually scared of me. They remember that first time and how I hurt them, and I can relive that whenever I want. Yeah, I'm a sick fuck. But what'd you expect?

\- Calvin Laramie, response to “Why do people pay so much for virgin boys at the Boyagio?” on quora.com

**The First Night, Part 1: A Rough Fucking**

_M/b, nonc, rough_

The man pulled David through the halls to an elevator, and then inside when it came. He hit the button marked PH and slid his key card in the slot, and the doors closed. With a quick tug, David was next to the man in the elevator, and he felt the big, leathery hands cup his balls and start massaging them in the elevator. "Please stop," he said.

"Boy, you are the most innocent fucker I've ever met." The man seemed to pause and think for a moment. "Fuckee, I guess."

On the penthouse floor, the man went to Penthouse 3 and opened the door, pulling David in with him. It was a huge suite, and opulent. David felt himself being pulled to one of the rooms, a bedroom, and in. The man closed the door and undid the leash.

"Undress me," said the man.

David looked away, down at the floor, anywhere but at the man. But the man swung his arms and slapped David's face, throwing the naked boy to the ground.

"Undress me," said the man.

David pulled himself up and started to take off the man's jacket. “Keep going,” said the man. The terrified boy unbuttoned the plaid shirt. “Keep going.” He undid the jeans, and slowly took them off to reveal hairy legs and a huge cock.

"Won't this be fun," said the man, and he grabbed David and threw him onto the bed. The boy rolled onto his back as he landed. The man climbed in the bed after him. He reached down, grabbed the boy, and held their faces together, kissing him. David tried to push him away, but the boy's strength could not compete. The man's tongue explored every cavity of the boy's mouth, the bristles of his goatee pressing roughly against the smooth chin of the boy. Their chests were pressed together, and David could feel the man's hair against his bare chest, could feel the man's awful stomach as it expanded with each eager breath.

While the man's left hand held the boy close, his right hand worked its way down to the boy's asshole and his leathery fingers started to push their way in. "Mmmmmmm!" came David's muffled shout, unable to fully vocalize because of the rough kiss. "Errrrrrr!" His legs, which were straddling the large man, tried to kick out, but there was nothing to kick. His thighs squeezed the man but it didn't do anything. The fingers poked deeper and deeper into the asshole, opening it up.

"I only have an hour, boy," said the man, leaning back from the kiss. "Fucking expensive hour, so we are going to spend it fucking, you understand me?" His middle finger found its way further into the virgin hole.

"Maaaah!" shouted David. "Stop! Stop!" His flailing became more frantic, but the fingers only pushed further. He felt the fingers moving in circles, pulling him apart. "Stooo-op," he said again, the tears flowing from his eyes as he started to cry.

"God, you're making it hard to hold my fucking load until we actually fuck," said the man. He took the boy and turned him on his stomach, forcing his finger further in, widening the hole enough to make it practical to fuck. David sobbed into the pillow.

It seemed to end, and David looked up. The man was rubbing something onto his stiff cock. David rolled off the bed.

"Hey!" said the man. "Get back on there!"

David backed away to a corner of the room. The man, stiff member out, approached.

"Stay away!" said David. When the man got closer, he ducked under his reach and went for the door, but the man got there at the same time and shoved the door closed, so David ran under the bed and tried to hide there.

The man ducked down and reached under the bed. He grabbed an ankle and he pulled. David had grabbed a leg of the bed with his hands, and was trying to hold on, but the man was so strong. David's grip failed and the man's pull dragged him all the way out from under the bed, the carpet burning against his flesh. The man picked the boy up. David was kicking, screaming "No! No!", even pulling on the man's hair, but he just threw the boy down on the bed.

The man climbed in. David kicked at him. The first kick landed but then the man grabbed David's thighs and forced them apart. His hand crashed down on David's balls and the boy screamed, and tried to kick again but the man had his legs firmly. His beefy arms turned the boy over, face down. David tried to twist but his legs were being held down. The man started to climb on top of the boy, and David's arm reached out to push him away, his hand pressing against the man's face, but the man batted it away and hit the boy hard upside the head.

David's body was slick with sweat now, and the man was sweaty too, and David felt the sweaty mass lying on top of him, the two bodies slippery against each other. The boy was pressed into the bed by the weight of the man. He felt the man's chest hair rubbing against his back, he felt the man's breathing, the air rushing against the back of his neck, the stomach pushing against him. David felt his little penis lying uncomfortably under all that weight, his balls pressed against the bed, a dull pain. His legs were entangled with the man's own legs, and he felt the pressure of the man's cock against his body.

David tried to twist out, but the man's weight kept him pinned. Then he felt the man start to rise a bit, a hand pushing against David's back, holding him down. He felt something on his butt cheeks. And then he felt what he thought was a finger pressing against his ass again.

As it started to enter, David's scream pierced the whole room. His whole body started rocking back and forth, trying to push the man off. But the man just pushed down harder on the boy, forcing him to stay in place, while the cock pressed in. David could feel it pushing for entry, he could feel the cock slowly working its way in, his hole involuntarily enlarging to let the thing in no matter how much he tried to push it closed. The man's hips kept pushing against David's, his hand kept him down. David kicked, he tried to reach back with his arms, but he couldn't punch behind his body. He couldn't twist out. He screamed and he kicked, but it did nothing.

And then the thing was inside him. Really inside him. It felt... it was  _inside_ him. He didn't understand at first, didn't understand how a thing could be inside, but it was, it was like it was pushing something in him aside, putting things in him where they shouldn't be. The pain tore at him, and at first he thought he would just die. But he didn't. Instead, with each push it hurt even more.

_I have to be strong_ , he thought, repeating it to himself. He even said it out loud, whispering it into the pillow his face was pushed against. "I have to be strong, I have to be strong, I have to be strong," he whispered over and over again.

And still the pain, the cock came pushing against him.

As his cock was finally significantly inside the boy, the man started to let himself rest more on top of David, pinning the boy further. David could smell the man, smell his body odor and his breath. He could feel him, the heavier body pressing down on the boy. David's hands closed into fists against the pain. The thing moved further and further inside him, stretching things, breaking things, he could feel them breaking, his  _body_ wasn't where it was supposed to be, wasn't how it was supposed to be...

David’s mind went away, went to some other place, some place far away from this one. This was all happening to someone else.  _Thrust_ came the push into his ass. But it was happening to someone else.  _Thrust_ . He wasn't here. He was somewhere else.  _Thrust_ . He tried to think about his family, about his brother.  _Thrust_ . His back arched; his neck bent backwards. His body wasn’t his own, it was moving without him telling it to move, it was somebody else’s.  _Thrust_ . It hurt too much to think about his family. Was this what was going to happen to Seth?  _Thrust_ . Was he saying something? Moaning? Whimpering? He couldn't tell. He didn’t even know what his own body was doing.  _Thrust_ . He had to stay in the other place. He wasn’t here.  _Thrust_ . Stay strong. Stay strong.  _Thrust_ . Quiet tears rolled down his cheeks into the pillow.

Then the man was all the way in, and he started rocking back and forth, guiding his cock in and out of the wrecked young asshole. Faster and faster the man pushed, deeper and deeper. David felt the man's pelvis pushing against his own, pumping into him. With each push he felt himself smashed against the bed, flattened, and then released. Each push was a sharp pain, a feeling of something wrong inside. With each pump David let out a small moan of pain; his fists beat helplessly, punching the mattress, trying to vent the pain  _somewhere_ . His legs bent at the knees as if trying to curl into a ball, but the man's own legs held them spread out. With each shove, his toes curled in agony, pointing up towards the ceiling.  _The other place_ , he thought desperately,  _I have to go to the other place._

“Aaaaaaaah!” shouted the boy.

The man was literally laying on David while he pressed his cock in. David could feel the man's breath against his ear, could hear the man's loud moans of pleasure, the "Ooooh"s and "Yeeeees"s, the "Mmmmm"s. Every so often the man would bite David's ear, and David tried to pull away but it just pulled worse on his ear, so he just let it happen and hoped for it to stop.

“Oh fuck yeah,” said the man dreamily, while his cock eased into David’s asshole once again.

And then something seemed to change. The pushes got more frequent, David's insides got more mangled, the man's bite intensified. He started to go "ah ah ah". The thing inside David seemed like it got bigger, and it was definitely pulsing faster. David's body arched in pain, he let out another shout, and then suddenly there was a squelching sound and a feeling of liquid and then it seemed like it was done. The man collapsed almost bonelessly on top of David, smothering him in the bulk. For a minute, they lay there, David pushing to breathe against the weight on top of him, surrounded by the smell of sweat and semen. And then the man rolled off the boy.

"Ohhhhh," said the man.

David just lay there. Then the man's huge arms reached out and grabbed David and laid the boy on top of the man. Again the man roughly kissed him. The man's cold hands were absent-mindedly fondling David's cock.

"That," he said, "was fucking fantastic." The boy just whimpered.

The man checked the time. Twenty minutes left. He settled back on the bed, leaning against the frame, hairy legs out and spread-eagled. "All right, boy, lick up my cock."

David looked down at the disgusting thing, with all its detritus, the specks of blood and... less savory things. He just stared, not moving.

"Do it!"

David still didn't move. So the man took the boy and hit him across the face, sending him sprawling. Then he pulled the child back closer and slapped his balls. “Yaaah!” screamed David.

"Now," the man said, "lick it or I do worse to you."

The boy thought about the disgusting thing in front of him, or the pain he'd get. And finally he started licking, slowly, tentatively, his tongue like a feather breezing along the cock.

"Not like that, you fucker," said the man, slapping him again. "Lick! Take it in your mouth! Clean it off! If you don't clean it off in one minute, I'll beat you shitless and fuck you again worse than last time!"

David hesitated for a moment. And then he opened his mouth wide, and he licked properly, an encompassing warmth on the man‘s organ. The man told him to keep licking and sucking while he sat back against the pillows and turned on the TV, the boy lying between his legs and sucking away while the box blared in the background.

The man was hard again, but hadn't cum yet, when there was a knock at the penthouse door. "Fuck," he said. His stiff cock swinging in front of him, he went to the door literally carrying David over his shoulder. There were three boys there in the skimpy hotel uniforms.

"I’m sorry, sir, but your time is expired," said one.

"Yeah, yeah," said the man. He set David down, and the boy slumped to the ground. One of the boys bent down, and David felt the warm touch of his hands as he reattached the collar. David did nothing to stop it. He heard the click of the leash and the boy stood up, holding the other end. "Hey," said the man to one of the boys, a nine-year-old brunette. "How much are you per hour?"

"Sixty-five," said the boy.

“You available?” he asked. "I could use a professional to wrap this up." He indicated the stiff cock.

The boy looked to his two compatriots. One of them shrugged. “Don’t need us all. He’s tiny.”

The boy turned back. His eyes dropped to the ground; he mumbled "yes, sir" and stepped towards the man. “It would be a pleasure to serve you.” He took out an iPhone to record his engagement.

The other two boys gave him a shrug. They took David's leash and pulled on it, but David had curled up into a ball on the ground and was sobbing lightly, ignoring the tug of the leash. So one of them went and put his arms under David's shoulders and lifted the boy to his feet, and then, pulled by the leash, David stumbled out after them.

"I'm Mark," said one of them as they escorted the barely-standing boy to the elevator.

"Gustavo," said the other. "What's your name?"

David stayed silent. The elevator came, and they entered, hitting the floor marked "Service".

"C'mon," said Mark.

"I'm David,” he finally said. “Are you taking me out of here?"

The other two boys looked at each other.

"No," said Gustavo. "We're cleaning you up for the next customer."

"Oh God," said David. "Please let me go. I'll run away, you'll never see me again."

"Yeah right," said Gustavo, "If you ran away, they'd catch you. The police would go after you. You belong to this place. And we'd get in trouble."

"Big trouble," added Mark.

"Please," said David.

"The first night fucking sucks," said Gustavo, his high-pitched prepubscent voice sliding over the profanity as if it was nothing. But David turned to him, surprised.

“Don’t get him worked up with that language,” said Mark.

“Seriously?” said Gustavo. “He just went through that, and you want me to stop saying `fuck’ around him?”

Mark shrugged. Then he said, "all of our first nights sucked. But you just have to live through it. It gets better."

"Better?" asked David.

"A little bit," admitted Mark. “People on the first night, they’re different. A lot worse than later. And you don’t usually have this many customers in a night...” The elevator arrived, and they stepped out into a staff area. There were a few boys and older adults moving around. David realized suddenly that it was the first time he'd seen adults working here since he arrived — only in the hidden staff area.

"What about-"

"Paul," said Gustavo, "had to stay back and service the customer."

"It's not as bad once you get better at it," said Mark.

"I don't want to get better at it," replied David.

The two experienced boys were quiet after that. Still holding David by his leash, they took him through a few hallways to a back room that was a little bit kitchen, a little bit boy's locker room.

Gustavo set David down on a chair. "Here," he said, handing the boy a Gatorade and Clif Bar.

"What's this for?" asked David.

"You're parched, you need to drink, replace some electrolytes. You'll need it to survive the next few hours."

David ate, and drank. Then he was taken to the showers, where they turned on the water and cleaned him up, making sure his ass was actually clean.

Gently, Gustavo and Mark dried David off.

"Put yourself in a different place while it's happening," suggested Gustavo as they started walking to the next "customer". David was still naked, leashed, parading through the hotel. Sometimes a drop of water would fall from his hair to the carpet. "It helps. Just imagine yourself somewhere fun."

"I think about what it's like to be Superman," said Mark. "Pretend I was killing these guys."

"Superman doesn't kill," said Gustavo.

"He would," replied Mark, "if he was here."

Soon they reached room 533. It was no penthouse. It was just a normal hotel room. They knocked, and the door was opened. David walked in. There were four men waiting.

"We pooled our money to get this hour," one of them said. "So we'll be sharing."


	3. First Night, Part 2 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on Ao3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the chapter notes for chapter 2.

**The First Night, Part 2: Fivesome**

_MMMM/b , nonc, rough_

The next hour was a haze in David's memories, the first of many painful fuckings that grew into monotony as they grew commonplace in his life.

David remembered the pain. He remembered the feeling of his worn ass being penetrated again, the sense of being full with something inside him that pushed against his innards. He remembered how another man simultaneously stuffed his cock into the boy's mouth, the feel of the public hair against his nose that made him want to sneeze, the overpowering stench of the organ. He remembered the command to suck, to use his tongue, and how he did his best to comply in the hopes that it might be over. He remembered the hand that grabbed the back of his head, roughly pushing his head forward, gagging him on the cock in his mouth; being pulled and pulled again and again, out and in, each time a little bit deeper, a little bit further down his throat; he remembered the feeling of his hair being pulled; he remembered the command to swallow what came out.

David remembered the rough hands of the other two men who were waiting their turn, fondling him while the first two fucked him, every inch of both his insides and outsides being used for their pleasure. He remembered how his body was pushed backwards by the man fucking his mouth, and forwards by the man fucking his ass, how his body bent from the opposite pressures. He remembered the moans of pleasure from one of the men, probably the one in his ass, whose head was close to David's own. He remembered the overwhelming nausea from the smell, the moist sweat mixed with his saliva, the ripping pain in his behind. He remembered how he could barely breathe when the man shoved his head forward, and the moment he thought he might die, and how he almost didn’t care.

David remembered how eventually it was over; how he felt the pulsing orgasm, first of the man in his ass, then in his mouth, a sensation that was already becoming familiar as his insides were further ripped apart. He remembered how the men pulled out, satisfied and smiling. They moved aside and the two other men replaced them; David was not even moved, did not change position, as the two new men inserted into the boy and it happened all over again. And then again, and again.

* * *

Again Mark and Gustavo picked him up. At first, David couldn't walk at all, but eventually they got him to move. Again he went to that room where he drank some Gatorade and got showered. Even after the shower he smelled the cum lodged deep in his throat.

Then it was on to the next customer.

Gustavo said something about "the gangbangs are the fucking worst," although David didn't understand the word “gangbang” at the time. Mark told him that after the first night a lot of the men act like they love you, which is a lot better, but David also didn't really understand that.

“Shit,” said Gustavo when he looked at their next destination. “East Wing. All right, that _is_ worse than a gangbang.”

Before the two boys brought David to his third customer, they warned him that this was a "bondage room". David did not understand what that meant, either.


	4. First Night, Part 3 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on Ao3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the chapter notes from "chapter 2!"

**The First Night, Part 3**

_Bond, tort, implied M/b, nonc_

The third customer of the night said to David, "Undress me."

David saw nothing to be gained by saying no. He did.

"Good boy," replied the man. "Now tell me how much you want me to fuck you."

"But..." said David, in his small, eight-year-old’s high-pitched voice... "but I don't."

"Oh, no," replied the man. "No no no. You must learn obedience." He grabbed David's wrist and dragged him to the center of the hotel suite, where he opened a ceiling panel revealing some handcuffs on a chain. David saw them and tried to run off, but the man's grip on his wrist was strong and he held on to the boy. David tried to kick, but his bare foot could only hit the man's shins and it did nothing to hurt him. "Let me go!" shouted the boy, his voice hoarse from all its screaming. "Let me go!"

The man raised David's arm and soon one of the cuffs was around the boy's wrist. David held his other arm away, trying to stay out of the man's reach, but it was no use and soon the second arm was cuffed as well. Then the man reached up above the kicking and shaking and twisting boy and pulled the chain up until David's toes could barely touch the floor. There was a click as the gears locked, and the man stepped away from the hanging boy.

"David," said the man, standing back and looking at him. "David, David, David." The man walked up, and his cold, dry fingers settled on David's stomach. "Such a beautiful boy," he said, running his hand along the curve of the stomach, down to the cock, then back up to David's chest. The boy shivered helplessly underneath him. "A beautiful boy with a beautiful name."

The man started to circle around, his cold finger tracing a line from David's belly button around to his back. "I only have an hour with you, David," he said. The finger started to run up David's spine. "A very expensive hour," he added. He started circling to the front, his finger running up David's arm, along his armpit.

"Since I only have an hour, David, I don't have time to properly train you. You're just going to have to learn to obey me." The man was standing in front of David now, bending down so that his face was directly in the boy's face. With each word, David could feel the breath against his face. The man gazed back impassively, looking at David's exhausted, beaten, fearful eyes, and his hand worked its way slowly down David's stomach. "And when you don't, I am going to teach you... quickly." The man abruptly squeezed David's balls, balls that had already taken so much punishment, and the boy yelped, his eyes opening wide at the shock.

The man stepped back from the gasping boy whose shoulders rose and fell with each breath. "Let's take the next ten minutes to get this straight, so that we can have a good forty minutes of obedience, shall we?" He went to a cabinet in the back of the room, which he opened to reveal a variety of frightening implements. He removed a whip. "The terms of the agreement are that any marks should disappear within a week. This will meet that criterion. Probably."

The man stepped up and let fly with the whip. It hit against David's pure flesh and the boy tried to jump back, but his body just swung back and then closer again, hanging from his wrists. He screamed a hoarse scream, having long since lost count of how many times he'd screamed this night. Another impact, on his smooth stomach. Another, on his slender thigh.

David twisted frantically, trying to get away from the whip. Each time it would land, he'd turn his tiny body away from it, trying to protect himself, but that just exposed somewhere else. His back. His armpit. His ass. His nipples. His thighs. He tried to raise his legs to shield himself, but the weight on his arms was too much, and he couldn't move them to block the whip. With each impact, the toes on his little feet would spread out in pain. His screams had stopped; he was just whimpering now. Each hit and he'd just let out an "Nnnh," a sob. And then a hit landed on his cock, and he screamed again, and again his body was twisting, and again the blows landed and landed and landed, a haze of punishment that swirled around the boy.

The child swung wildly, not thinking anything beyond the moment, how to survive each instant, survive each blow. Hit after hit rained down on his thin, fragile body. Red-faced; snot gushing down his face, his lips, chin, even his neck and dripping onto his chest; streaks where tears, not those of sadness but those of raw pain, of feeling, the kind of tears that come involuntarily from cold weather flowed down his cheeks. Still the body twisted, curled; tried to raise sensitive legs up to protect an even more sensitive stomach; still it turned one way then another, the young child whose mind was blank, empty but for the pain and the effort to escape it. Hit after hit after hit rained down, discovering new regions, new places that had not yet felt the pain; again on his stomach, his chest, his back, his thighs, and his cock, again on his cock bringing that renewed agony forth again. He screamed and tasted his own snot and he didn’t care. Shaking, shivering, twisting, breaking. Hit after hit after hit after hit.

And finally it was done. The man had stopped swinging. David opened his bloodshot eyes to look at the man, standing there holding the whip. His throat hurt awfully, and he felt a crustiness over his lips. He could barely see through the tears. Sweat mixed with the other liquids flowing down his red face. Unexpectedly, the man swung one more time, hitting a region of his back that he'd left untouched. The pain ricocheted through David's body. He jerked and coughed, but barely reacted otherwise. The man giggled. He walked in a slow circle around David’s hanging body, finger running in a circle along the sweat-soaked boy’s chest and back.

"Tell me how much you want me to fuck you," the man said as he rounded back into David’s view.

David stared back at him, his brain processing, thinking, regaining thought for the first time in so long, putting the pain he'd just experienced together with his refusal from before. He coughed through his sore throat.

“I really want you to fuck me,” he said in a broken voice. Suddenly fear took him; what if it wasn’t enough?, what if more pain might be coming?, he started to babble, words overflowing out of him. “Please fuck me,” he said. “I want you to. It sounds great. Please do it. Please. Please.”

"Excellent," said the man, smiling and releasing the bonds. The boy collapsed. And now the boy obeyed.

* * *

Mark and Gustavo picked up their charge about forty minutes later. "Shit," said Gustavo. "That looks bad."

They were back in the kitchen/locker room. David was standing there as Mark posed him, and Gustavo was taking pictures.

“Why do you take photos each time we’re in here?” wheezed David, voice hoarse.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Gustavo.

“Tell me why!” insisted David.

Mark and Gustavo looked at each other. “Two reasons,” said Mark. “First, there are rules. The customers on your first night can’t leave marks that won’t disappear in a week. So we have photos to know which customer… did what.

“It’s kind-of for your own protection,” added Mark half-heartedly.

“Bullshit,” said Gustavo. “They’re protecting their property.”

“The second reason,” continued Mark, “is that the customers can buy photos of you afterward to remember you by. These are the just-after photos, but there are going to be lots more, while you‘re sleeping, staged for other things... Sometimes even people who just come once keep buying photos, watching us grow up, or commission special photo shoots. There‘s a guy from my first time, every year, buys some photos.”

“Shit,” said Gustavo. “Never thought of that. I wonder how many people jack off to us each day.” He struck a pose, arms out, stomach curving forward, legs planted two feet apart. “I’m a star!” he joked. “Some hairy dude is playing with himself right now thinking about me!”

“Shut up,” said Mark. “It’s not funny.”

“You know they also use them for ads,” said Gustavo.

“Really?” asked Mark, suddenly curious. Neither boy noticed the silent tears going down David’s face.

“Yeah. Sometimes for the big ads outside or stuff like that, but a lot of the time it’s for e-mails they send. Like, they’ll send an e-mail to someone reminding them to come back with pictures of boys they’ve fucked. It helps keep you popular.”

David imagined all these awful people, looking at photos of him on their computers all around the country, getting off on what they saw. He thought about how sad he was, and how they would all see it. How he was naked and hurt. “I don’t want to be popular,” said David.

“Yes you do,” said Mark, quickly. “It’s a lot better than the alternative.”

“David,” said Gustavo, standing up above him. “Look up into the camera.”

“Why?” asked David, but he obeyed as Gustavo took shot after shot.

“Because,” said Gustavo, “you’re crying, and a shot of you wide-eyed, crying, looking up at the camera, that’ll do really well.”

“But I don’t want to do well!”

“Yes, you do!” insisted Mark.

“Look,“ said Gustavo, “you get a cut of these photos, same as us. Believe me. It’s worth it.” He snapped a bit more. “Mark, can you position him for a few ass shots? And then I want to do close-up of the whip marks.”

David shivered. But he did as the other boys told him to do.

“We should wrap it up,” said Mark after a few more minutes. "I think we should put some lotion on the whip marks, and we still need to shower.“ So after David’s shower, the other boys applied lotion that was supposed to make the pain less, although David groaned and winced as they were rubbed it into his wounds.

"How many more?" asked David.

Mark and Gustavo looked at each other. Finally, Gustavo answered. "Seven."

"Oh, god," said David. "Seven more?" Tears were coming out of his eyes. "Can you..." he paused.

"No," said Mark. And they took him to the next room.


	5. First Night: Mark & Gustavo Interlude 1 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on Ao3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see chapter notes for the start of chapter 2.

**Mark & Gustavo: Waiting, Part 1**

For Gustavo and Mark, there was an hour with nothing to do.

“Want to play Xbox?” asked Mark.

“Nah,” said Gustavo. “I don’t want to spend my tip money on that.”

“I’ve got some toys,” suggested Mark. “Want to play war?”

“All right,” replied the other boy.

And so the two went to retrieve Mark’s toys. They were a motley mix, from Batman to Shrek to a Minion. Each one had been given to Mark by an admirer, by someone who’d rented him out and used him. He remembered each of them, of course.

A Pikachu toy, from a fat old man who was particularly disgusting, whose smell and weight had been especially unpleasant to the boy. But somehow, the man had also been kind, in his way. He’d been gentle, and when they were done he’d asked Mark what he liked, and the boy had said he was into Pokémon, and then this gift was waiting for him.

The G.I. Joe, from a big brawny man, an army man. He’d hit Mark around a few times, slapped him across the face, sent the boy sprawling; and it’d really hurt. Mark had cried a lot that night, and the man only seemed to get more excited. Mark still remembered the three-hour session, and how, a day later, he’d received this “gift”. Mark still didn’t know if it was a kind of apology, or designed to make him forever remember how he’d been hurt. But if the man thought Mark was weak enough to be bothered by the toy, he was mistaken.

The Transformers toys, from Mark’s own first night. The first gift he’d ever gotten. That had been an Asian man who’d been especially cruel to the new boy. It was nine months ago, and Mark was seven. He’d never experienced pain, and misery, and fear like that, and truth be told, he hadn’t experienced it since. That night, that awful night, he’d known that he was going to die. It was a sick feeling throughout his body, overwhelming his emotions, this pure animal fear of dying. But he hadn’t died, of course, and now he was here.

Mark wondered, idly, if the cruel ones gave toys more often. Did they feel guilty for what they did to him?

The two boys pulled all those toys, all those memories, out of the box, and lined them up. “These are cool!” said Gustavo.  
  


The two boys sat down, legs crossed underneath them. It didn’t take long before the armies of darkness had assembled (led by the G.I. Joe, at Mark’s request), and the two kids built a fort, the last hope of the light, led by Pikachu. They were crawling all over the floor, placing toys in defensive places, making a formation for the attacking army.

Gustavo picked up Pikachu. “Hold the line, men!” he shouted. “They’re here to rape us!” If it was odd for a nine-year-old to say something like that, for his boyish voice to echo through the room, neither of them noticed. In fact, Gustavo was smiling the wide smile of a child at play, his teeth joyously bared for the world, lost in his fantasy.

Mark held another toy aloft. “And our children!” he added. The two boys giggled, and then the fight was on. Figures flew through the air, punched, and kicked. Mark walked with a figure aloft in his hand, laughing. “Whooosh!” he exclaimed as the figure coasted through the air. “Whooosh!” Suddenly the figure dove down upon the invading army, Mark’s voice making a “dvvvvvvvv” sound as it dove down, and locked in battle with one of his enemies. The boys moved everywhere as the two armies converged, as heroes and villains fought one-another all across the small room.

And yet, even though it felt in every way like boys at play, still something was... off. When Gustavo had a badly weakened lizard man of some sort cowering before the G.I. Joe, the soldier raped the lizard before killing it. When Pikachu was wounded in front of an enemy, Mark said, “No, I won’t let you get to my son!” and Pikachu charged forward, fending off the invader.

But the boys just laughed as they ran around, grinning and joking, punching with the figures. “Take that!” said Mark as one character kicked another. “And that! And that! Aaaaand  _that_ !” With the final blow, a roundhouse kick, the other figure was sent spiraling through the air, landing in a crash across the room. “Yes!” exclaimed Mark, pumping his fist.

“I’ll get you for that!” said Gustavo in the voice of another figure, moving in to attack, the battle joined anew.

And so it went, until finally their time was up, and they had to retrieve David from his latest abuser. As soon as the buzzer Gustavo had set went off, Mark’s face fell. He’d been so happy, so joyous, just a moment ago. But now it was back to the real world.

“Let’s go,” said the boy. “We’ll clean up later.”


	6. First Night, Part 4 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see chapter two for the notes if you haven't already read them.

**The First Night, Part 4**

_Gangbang, only lightly described_

While Mark and Gustavo were playing, David’s customer was another gangbang, six men who'd pooled their money for him. David heard the sound of the door shutting behind him as the other boys left.

“C’mere,” said a man. David saw no reason to disobey. He knew it wouldn’t help. So he came up to the men.

David stood there, naked, helpless, as the six men towered over him. The eight-year-old shrunk into himself, toes curling around each other, feet nervously shuffling. Unconsciously, his hands went to cover his cock. He looked down at the ground, seeing the men’s hairy feet.

“Oh, you’re real nice,” said one of them. His rough hand slid down David’s smooth skin, smooth except for the welts it had from his whipping. David shuddered, but he stood still. David found himself trembling with fear, though he tried to control it.

“How many times’ve you been fucked?” asked a man. More hands were stroking him now, running along his skin.

“S-six,” answered David.

“Too bad,” said the man. “I really wanted to be first.”

“It’s all right,” said another. “In an hour, we’re gonna be half of his fucks.”

“You’re gonna love my cock,” said a man.

“You had one down your throat yet?” said another.

The hands were everywhere. One ran along his cheek. Another kneaded his ass cheeks. Another ran along the inside of his thighs. Another fondled a nipple. They covered his body, exploring everything, all those hands.

“You just wait, kid, you’re gonna feel it real good.”

“You had one this big inside you yet?”

“What’s your favorite part of being a pleasure boy?”

“C’mon, guys, let’s just fuck him already.”

And then he felt himself get picked up and carried to the bedroom. As he was thrown over one of the men’s shoulders, he saw that another man had a video camera out to record the whole thing.

* * *

Again, again, again. Once again David felt the familiar graze of a penis along his ass; once again he felt it line up, and penetrate. He felt his body react like it always did, back arching, muscles spasming. Again, again, again.

David went to the other place as the first man pushed into him. Now there was someone pushing into his mouth, too.  _It’s just something that’s happening. It doesn’t matter. It’s just something that’s happening._ David was in the other place. It didn’t matter, he told himself.

He couldn’t stay there.

Once again he felt his body get violated. It was that feeling of everything out of sorts, of his insides out of place; that feeling of something inside him, sliding in and out of him, using him for its own pleasure. It was a feeling he'd had over and over again. His smooth skin slid against the man's hairy skin; he squirmed, awash in the sensations once again spreading throughout his body. He was somewhere else, he was somewhere else, he was somewhere else...

_It’s not happening to me, it’s not happening to me, it’s not happening to me..._

It lasted so long. One after another, taking their pleasure, then the next. Over and over again. Over and over again.

His ass. His mouth. His cock. His legs, which their rough hands ran along. His nipples, which their fingers prodded and pinched. Every part of his body was used by them. He was always surrounded by them, always the men around him, always their hands all over him, always their cocks inside him.

His body was for them.

A distant part of him still thought, I have to be strong. But it was small, and quiet. Another part of him thought, this is what I am now. But most of him, most of him just tried to hide as far away as possible.

"Aaaaaah!" he screamed, as another cock ripped into him.

* * *

By the time he was done, it was already four in the morning. David usually went to bed around 8pm.

He felt hollow. Empty. Used.

He lay there, lay on the bed, sensitive anus contracting, trying to recover what it was. Why get up? He was just a thing. No reason to get up. A person might get up. He was a thing. Used. Used up.

He lay there, awash in his thoughts and his pain. He could barely stay awake, but he had no chance to sleep.

Again he was brought back to the room. The room that was the break between customers. He saw toys spread out everywhere. Toys, here. It seemed incongruous.

He recognized that once, he would have been interested in those toys. He would have wanted to know what they were, to play with them. Now he just stumbled past.

He had to shower. He had to be ready for the next customer. Or maybe he could just fall asleep and never wake up again.


	7. First Night, Part 5 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, please see the notes at the start of chapter two.

**The First Night, Part 5**

_M/b, gentler_

David heard the jingle as Gustavo released the latch and removed his leash. “Good luck,” whispered Mark, quietly. Then the  _click_ of the door as it shut.

“Hello there, my boy,” said the man. He was tall and looked to be in his early 30s. Still dressed. He walked up to David and laid his hands on David’s shoulders. The boy winced.

“Shhh, it’s all right,” the man said. “My name’s Derek. What’s yours?”

A few hours ago, David might have fought. He might have tried to resist. He might have refused to answer. Things were different now, though. Now that he knew there was no point. Now that he was a thing. Now that he knew what would happen no matter what.

“David,” he said.

“Derek and David,” said the man. “Nice.” Holding David’s bare shoulders, he guided the boy forward. David followed. Why not?

He led the child to the bed, where he sat down, and sat David down on his lap. David’s legs hung down, feet dangling towards the ground.

“You’re a very beautiful boy,” said Derek. He ran the back of his fingers along the slope of David’s skin, down between his nipples, along the curve of his belly. David didn’t reply to the comment, so Derek said, “you know, you should say thank you.”

“Thank you,” said David, empty.

“I’m sorry,” said the man. “I know this must be a really hard day for you.” He reached up, gently stroking David’s hair. “So much pain. I’m so sorry you’ve had to... I’m sorry.” Still his hand stroked the boy. “You know,” he added, “some boys enjoy this.”

David shrugged.

“You could enjoy it, too.” Gently, his fingers stroked through David’s hair, while his other hand ran along David’s thigh. “You’re really wonderful,” mumbled the man. He leaned forward and gently planted a kiss on David’s forehead.

The exhausted, hurt boy sat naked on Derek’s lap as the man stroked his hair, his cheek, his thigh. As he spoke tenderly to him. David thought about his life now, this life where people put things inside of him, this life where people whipped him, this life where people stroked any part of his body that they wanted to. David missed his mommy and daddy. He missed his brother. Was this what Seth would have been doing? Why was David here instead of Seth?

The man started to stroke David’s cock, and David squirmed, expecting the pain of a squeeze. Instead the man’s dry but gentle fingers stroked up along David’s small penis. “Shhhhh,” said the man. “It’s ok. This can feel good.” The finger moved back and forth along David’s cock.

_You could enjoy it_ , the man had said. David didn’t  _want_ to enjoy it. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be free. He wasn’t strong enough, he was weak, he couldn’t do this for his family, he wanted to go home, he had to go home...

Tears started to flow down his face. He started to sob, this wasn’t right, he didn’t want this to be his life, he didn’t want this to be how it was...

“Shhhhh,” said Derek. “Shhhhh.” Derek kissed David’s forehead again. “It’s all right. It will all be all right,” the man said. He gently picked the boy up and placed him on the bed, then pushed him down so that David was lying on his back. David offered no resistance.

The man crawled up the bed. David was still sobbing, and Derek kissed him on the forehead. “It’s ok,” he kept saying. “It’s ok.” He kissed the boy on the nose; on the lips; on the neck; on the chest; and down his tummy.

“David,” he said, “this can make you feel good. Relax. Just relax.” He opened his mouth and took the little penis into it.

David did not know what to make of the wet mouth surrounding his cock. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel bad (which was a surprise). It just felt weird. The man sucked, pulling on the little cock. It hardened a little bit. David just... lay there while the man tried to make him happy.

The man stopped. “How does it feel?” he asked.

David didn’t know how to answer that. A few hours ago, he would have been honest. Now, conflicting thoughts swirled through his head. He was a slave. He was here to make men happy. His body was not his own. He had to be strong. If he said the wrong thing, he’d be hurt. He’d be hurt anyway. He was a thing. He was empty. He wanted to go to the other place. David just did not know what to think.

“Good,” he lied.

“I’m glad,” said Derek. He continued to suck for several more minutes, head bobbing up and down David’s little cock.

David felt his body react. He felt his cock stiffen. He felt some primal need for this to keep going. He heard himself moan. Once again, he realized, his body was not his own. It didn’t do what he wanted it to do. This man could do whatever he was doing, and David would just react however the man wanted him to.

“Yeah,” said the man, “I can see that you like it. You’re a good boy.”

For a little while longer, the man kept sucking. “You liked that?” he said.

“Yes,” said David. Really it had just felt strange. But he’d already decided how to answer these questions.

“Good,” said the man, smiling. Suddenly, his face turned serious, somber. “Listen, David, we don’t have that much time left.”

David just lay there.

“I know you might not like this, but I paid, and... I really want to have sex with you now. I know it might hurt, but I paid for it, and I really want it before our time is up. I hope... I hope the rest of this has been good. It‘ll get better.”

David didn’t respond. It didn’t seem like a response was necessary.

“Can you turn onto your stomach?” asked the man.

David complied. Why not?

“Thank you, David,” said Derek. “Thank you so much. You’re a wonderful boy. You’ll be fine. Remember that.”

This time the man moved into him slowly, steadily. David felt the cock line up against his ass, and then he felt it slowly slide in. Each time it hit resistance, each time it pressed harder, sliding each time in, in, in. The man groaned into the back of David's neck as the boy's tight ass slowly engulfed his cock, as he felt the pressure surrounding him, the warmth and roughness slide against his sensitive organ. In, in it slid, gently, into David, deeper and deeper into the boy as the man moaned, sliding his bulk along David's back, awash in ecstacy.

“Ohhhhh yeah,” said the man. “Ohhhh yeah.” Squish, went the cock in David's ass. “You’re doing great, David. You’re doing great. Just take it in. Just take it all in. Ohhhhh yeah. Relax. Relax, really, it’ll be better. It won’t hurt as much. C'mon. Open up. Ohhhhh yeah.” The thick cock slid in further into the boy. “Keep going. Keep going. Soooo tight. Watch it slip in. Just slip right in. Ohhhhh yeah. Good, good. Yeah. Yeah. So good. So good. Ohhhhhh yeah. Thank you, David. Thank you.”

In, the cock slid, into the little space, the space that surrounded it. Into the boy. Into David. Into David. In all the way until it could go no more.

“Yes,” said the man, cock fully inside the boy. He let it just sit there, let himself feel the pressure, feel the warmth from inside this child. “Great work, little man. You got it all.” Still he just sat there, feeling it, feeling the warmth, lying on the boy.

“Oh, this is so good,” he said.

And then he was ready to feel it, and so he started to rock back and forth, cock sliding in and out of the stretched hole, sliding around within the boy, squelching with each slow thrust, gently moving in and out, letting the boy's anus slide against the organ, slide along its edges, stimulate it with the slow and steady motion.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm!” exclaimed the man as David's insides glided along his cock, surrounding it and pulling it and rolling along the sensitive skin. “Good,” he panted. “Good, good, good, good.”

And then David felt the tell-tale surge, the surge that the young child now recognized on this, his thirteenth fucking, and he felt the cock grow, he felt its steady rhythm matched by the man's sliding in and out, somehow felt the liquid against his insides when the man finally ejaculated.

“Ohhhhhh,” said the man, collapsing again onto David. “You are a wonderful boy. Thank you.”

* * *

Mark and Gustavo asked him how it was, when they picked him up. “He was nicer,” said David.

“That’s good,” said Gustavo.

But for David... yes, the man was nicer. But he still used David. In a way it was worse. This man hadn’t threatened him, or hit him, or harmed him. This man had just asked David to turn over, and David did. David had understood something then. That even the nice ones would use him. It felt worse that way. He truly was just a thing for them to do with as they pleased. Less than a thing. People cared about things sometimes.

He wasn’t strong.  _Turn over_ , the man had said, and David had done it. He’d given up. He’d let the man do whatever he wanted, just waiting, waiting, waiting for it to be over. He wasn’t strong.

* * *

David had been cleaned up. They had a few minutes before they had to leave. David sat sullenly on a bed.

Mark sat next to him. “How’s it going?”

David didn’t reply.

Mark hugged the naked child. “Hey,” he said, “stay strong.”

“I can’t!” wailed David. “I try, but I can’t. I can’t stay strong.”

“It’s hard,” said Mark. “It’s really hard. My first night... it was really bad, too.”

“What do you do?” asked David. “How do you make it better?”

“I imagine things,” said Mark. “Like I said. Pretend I’m Superman. Pretend I’m somewhere else. Think about some TV show I watched.”

“The other place,” said David.

“Huh?”

“I try to go to the other place.”

“Yeah, like that,” said Mark.

For a few moments, they sat there. Then David asked, “you can watch TV?”

“We get tips,” said Mark. “You can spend them on things like watching TV.” He smiled. “If you get a lot of tips, you can watch as much as you want.”

“Cool,” said David.

“Yeah,” said Mark. And then it was time to go.


	8. First Night, Part 6 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't, make sure you've read the chapter notes at the start of chapter two.

**The First Night, Part 6**

_Bond, tort, F/b, nonc, very rough_

The fifth customer was in another "bondage" room. David felt slick fear when he heard that. But he was brought there on his leash and he was too tired to try to run away.

The customer, a woman in black leather gear, wasted no time. As soon as David was in the room, she punched him in the gut. He doubled-over in pain made worse by the wounds it reopened, and she took the curled-up boy and threw him backwards into a wall. He hit the wall with a thump and crumpled to the ground. Soon she was on top of him, straddling him, and punched him twice in the face. He could taste the salt as blood starting streaming from his nose.

David was beyond begging. He was beyond tears. He was beyond the other place. He could feel the sharp pain from the whip marks that had been opened by the punch. He could feel the dull pain from the impact against the wall. He could feel the pain in his jaw from the punches, and the pain inside him from the multiple fuckings he had endured. It all melted together into a haze that overwhelmed his thoughts.

The woman's thighs squeezed against his side and he gasped as he had trouble breathing. She twisted his left nipple and his hands instinctively moved to try to pull her hand off of it, but she punched him again in the face and he stopped. "I can play you like a violin, boy," she said. "Twist a nipple," she said, twisting harder as David squeaked in pain, arching up his stomach. "Scrape," she said, as she dug her fingernails into one of the deeper wounds from the earlier whipping. The boy flattened out, back against the floor, pushed back by trying to avoid the nails. "Squeeze," she said, as she squeezed his balls and he curled up, letting out a loud "ahhhhhh!". "Punch," she said, as her fist dove into his stomach, causing him to uncurl and flatten out in front of her. "Bite," she said, as she reached down and bit his right nipple.

The woman got up, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to his feet. She walked the stooped boy over to a part of the room where handcuffs emerged from the ceiling and floor, and she began cuffing his wrists and ankles so that he was spread-eagled, feet flat on the ground, arms held high and to the sides.

David was shaking in fear and anticipation. "Please," he said. "Please, I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me. Please."

"I'm sure you do, bitch," said the woman. Then she shook her head. "Man, Rawlins must have really done a number on you. I can’t  _believe_ he outbid me to get you first. Ruined a perfect evening." She walked up to him, heels clacking loudly on the floor, and reached a hand up to his chin, holding his head up. “We’ll just have to make up for it, won’t we, boy?”

The woman let go and David’s head fell forward to his chest; she went behind David's vision and came back with a device connected to a number of electrodes by long wires. She started attaching them to dozens of places along David's body.

"Please, I want you to fuck me." She placed a gag in his mouth.

Then she started playing her violin. A shock to the right foot, and the foot jumped up, the toes spreading outwards in pain, a surprised yelp coming from the boy. Her finger pushed another button, delivering a shock to the belly and a gasp as the air flowed out of him. She could see the boy's eyes tracking her hand as her finger found another button, releasing a shock to the arm as it jiggled in its restraints. "Nnnnh!" exclaimed the boy.

Then a more sensitive area, an armpit. "Nnnnh!" The boy's arm reflexively tried to pull down, pulling painfully against the cuffs. The left leg. "Nnnnh!" as the ankle flexed in pain. The back. "Nnnnh!" as he arched forward. The belly. "Nnnnh!" as he pulled backward against the restraints. Faster: the neck, briefly interrupting his breathing. The shoulder. ("Nnnnh!") The right nipple. ("Nnnnh!") The left nipple. ("Nnnnh!") The right nipple. The left nipple. The right nipple. The left nipple. With each shock in his nipples, the boy twisted, left, then right, left, then right, stretching the bonds, fighting against them. Right nipple. Left nipple. Right nipple. Left nipple. Cock and balls.

"YAAAAH!" shouted the boy through his gag.

The woman smiled. "Ahhhh," she said, letting out her own orgasm.

Already the boy's head was drooping again. She walked up to him, held his chin, moved his head up to face her. "You must be so tired," she said. "I wonder if you're feeling this fully."

She walked to the kitchen and there was a pouring sound. David shook wondering what she would return with. She came back with a dark cup of coffee and removed the gag.

"Drink it all up now," she said, sweetly. "Every last drop. If you spill any of it, you'll suffer a lot worse than you have so far, and I might just buy another hour with you." With that, she held his nose closed with one hand and tipped his head back, his mouth open to the ceiling, and she started pouring the cold liquid down his throat.

Despite the chill, despite the awful taste (the boy had never had any coffee before), David drank like his life depended on it. He gagged, he struggled, tears flowed down from his eyes, but he drank. A little dribble of coffee streamed down his left cheek, but he managed all the rest. When the coffee ran out and the woman let go, he was gasping for air, his shoulders heaving up and down in his heavy breathing.

"There we go," she said. The gag went back in. "Now you're awake." Left hand. "Nah!" shouted the boy. Left elbow. "Nah!" Stomach. "Nah!" Right shoulder. "Nah!" Armpit. "Nah!" The boy was shaking all over, filled with caffeine, body rocking against the bonds with each impact, sweat pouring down his face mixing with the coffee and blood. Ass cheek. Left shoulder blade and right nipple together. Both hands together. Neck. Knee and armpit together. Stomach and right elbow. Right foot left knee. Stomach. Stomach. Stomach. Stomach. Left nipple and right shoulder blade. Right nipple and left shoulder blade. Left nipple and right shoulder blade. Right nipple and left shoulder blade. Left nipple and right shoulder blade. Right nipple and left shoulder blade. Both nipples together. Cock and balls. Cock and balls. Cock and balls.

"Oh," she said, looking at the sweaty boy whose screams had died down, breathing heavily, head bowed down and facing the ground. "That was wonderful. Let's turn up the power, shall we?"

Then the true screaming began.

When the woman was finally done, David was limply hanging from his restraints. His skin glistened in so much sweat that the ground was wet with it. The woman walked around the boy whose labored breathing came so hard. From behind him, she settled her chin on his shoulders and he flinched. She reached down and flicked her finger at his balls. The boy just whimpered. “First rule,” she said quietly into his ears. “Every time you speak to me, you will call me `mistress’. Nod if you understand.”

He nodded. She removed the gag.

"Now," she whispered into his ears, "tell me that you will do everything I say."

"I'll do everything you say," he responded once his brain had processed the words. “Mistress,” he added, belatedly.

"Even if it causes you pain?" she whispered.

"Yes, mistress," he said, crying.

"Good," she said. "Let's test that."

She walked away and returned with two controls. She put one in each of the bound boy's hands, and reattached the gag.

"Push the button in your right hand," she said.

David looked at her. He was an animal now, not a boy, not even a person. Just trying to endure, just trying to survive the pain. His mind was empty. No part of him thought about how he had to be strong. He was the thing these people used.

David took a deep breath, and he pressed the button. A shock rippled through nipples, both of them. His teeth chattered against the current. His body shook violently.

When it was done, the woman said, "push the button again."

David looked at her, pleaded with his eyes. Again he was crying, sniffling. But he took a deep breath, and he did it, he pressed the button. "Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!" he shouted through clenched teeth.

"Now," said the woman. "The left button." David thought he knew what would happen.

The pain TORE through his testicles. His body was not his own anymore. He writhed in agony against the restraints. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" he shouted, muffled into the ball gag, mouth clenched, neck bones outlined through his skin. He saw only red. His eyes bulged, and his feet jerked uselessly against the restraints, and his pelvis twisted, shaking back and forth. His hands let go of the buttons and they clattered to the floor.

David gasped, limply hanging from the restraints, twitching, breathing heavily. Pain still lingered in his cock. The woman just walked up calmly and set the controls back into his palms.

"Right hand," said the woman.

David complied, the pain rippling through his chest.

"Left hand," said the woman.

“Nnnnn,” blubbered David through the gag. He shook his head feebly.

“LEFT HAND,” repeated the woman.

He was nothing. What was he? He was nothing. Why fight it? And so David complied. Again he shrieked in pain, again he felt his body involuntarily rock back and forth, pain his entire being, reduced to less than an animal, body acting on the purest instinct.

And then the woman was taking away the devices, and removing the constraints. The boy collapsed to the ground, body still shaking, teeth chattering.

"Stand up," said the woman.

David lay there.

"Stand up!" she said.

Slowly, slowly, he struggled. His feet, themselves shaking, started to find purchase underneath him, and he pulled himself up.  _Pain_ in his nipples as they bounced up and down while he raised himself up.  _Pain_ in his cock and balls as they rocked back and forth.  _Pain_ in his feet as they touched the ground;  _pain_ in his armpits as he moved his arms to hold himself up;  _pain_ in every part of his body.

The naked, shaking boy stood at just over four short feet. He had dried blood on his face and a trickle of blood down his chest from the whip mark that the woman had dug into with her nails. He still had a brown trail of coffee down his chin and resuming on his stomach, where it had dripped to. He had burn marks where all the electrodes had been. He had bruises from the punches. Still, swaying, the tiny boy stood up, wide, bloodshot eyes gazing up at the woman.

The woman presented him with a huge dildo. "Fuck yourself," she said, "all the way. You know what that means by now."

David looked at her face, her black costume, the excited expression on her face. Slowly, he took the dildo to his rear end. Slowly, he started to work it in.

"Harder!" said the woman. "Get it in!"

David tried to push more, but it was so hard. It was painful, and tight, and he didn't have the strength. But he knew what would happen if he didn't... for a while he struggled there, his hands behind his back, pushing in even though he had no purchase, no leverage. He became frantic, thinking of what would happen if he didn't do this, shoving as hard as he could, bracing himself against a chair, trying to use the chair to push it in. He walked to a wall, braced the dildo against the wall, pushed himself backward against it. The woman laughed and laughed at his struggles, voice ringing throughout the room. The pain was overwhelming; the knowledge that he was doing it to himself was worse; he was crying, blubbering, snot mixing with blood and coffee and sweat all over his face, he could barely see, but he knew that he had to do this, and he leaned back harder, pushing into the wall, into the dildo, as it slid further and further in.

The boy, stuffed with the dildo, a feeling that had become too familiar, had done it.

"Excellent, boy," said the woman, clapping lightly. She took off what little clothing she had. "Now come here and kneel."

David came up and knelt, moaning in pain as his battered knees were pressed against the ground, as he felt the dildo moving around his insides as his body bent down. He knelt, looking up at the woman with his battered face.

"Lick my cunt, boy. Stick your tongue deep in there. Play with it."

It was as nothing to him. So he leaned forward, his tongue out, and he stuck it in. He drank up the juices. The hairs tickled his nose, and some got stuck in his mouth. Still his tongue was in. It was slimy and gross, and it felt like something was  _moving_ in there. As the woman got more excited, and more juices came out and the things in there moved on their own, he kept it up. As the woman pressed his face in, he kept it up. As she gasped and forced her hairy cunt into him, scraping against his face, he kept his tongue out and licked. Finally she came, and she threw the boy back, little pubic hairs glued to his face and mouth. The impact came painfully as David landed on his back, head banging against the ground, dildo again pushed around in his ass.

There was a knock at the door. She went and opened it. Gustavo and Mark were there.

"Good timing, boys," she said. She walked back to David, still sprawled on the ground. She took her high-heeled stilleto and slowly placed her foot on his stomach, grinding the heel in and eliciting a small moan of pain.

"You will remember this night forever, little boy," she said. "For this was the first time you were dominated, the first time your free will was utterly taken from you, the first time you lost yourself and became only a creature to serve, hoping for the pain to end. Tell me that you will always serve me."

“I will always serve you, mistress,” repeated the pathetic boy writhing on the floor, voice dry and cracked.

She pressed the stilleto further into the flesh of the boy's stomach, eliciting a little yelp. "Remember forever how Madame Épée owned your body and mind, how you served her every whim and obeyed her every command. Remember the first time, David," she said, using his name for the first and only time, "for I will be back." Then she took her foot off and gave him a quick kick to the head, sending him sprawling. Finally, she reached down and yanked on the dildo. David was so tired, so overwhelmed with pain, that even as the instrument came out slick with blood, all he did was groan.

"Take him," she said to the other boys.

Each reaching down, taking one arm over each of their shoulders, they did. As he was led out of the room, David could hear the birds starting to sing outside as dawn came.

* * *

"Holy shit," said Mark when the door was closed.

“Yeah,” said Gustavo dryly, “the nice ones never buy you on the first night.”

“David,” said Mark, “if you don’t get in trouble, if you don't go to the dungeon... they can't use you that hard usually. Just if you get in trouble. It’s not like this usually.”

“Unless they pay for it,” said Gustavo. Mark threw him a look. "Or your first night," Gustavo added. "They made a lot of money off of you tonight."

“Most of them are better than that,” said Mark, “really. It gets better...”

"Is it over?" moaned David.

"No," said Mark. "Four more to go."


	9. First Night: Mark & Gustavo Interlude 2 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't, you should read the notes at the beginning of chapter 2.

**Mark & Gustavo: Homes**

Gustavo and Mark sat in the back room, waiting for David’s time to run out at his next customer. They were sprawled out, on the floor, sitting back against the furniture, legs extended out. Mark was biting his nails nervously.

“I’m so tired,” said Gustavo.

“Not as tired as he is.”

“Yeah, well,” said Gustavo. “You should stop biting your nails. You’re not supposed to mess them up, or you’ll get a demerit.”

“I know,” said Mark. He stopped and he sat there, fingers picking away at the fabric of the chair. “It’s just... shit. Shit.”

“What?” asked Gustavo.

“He...”

Gustavo shrugged. “First time you’ve broken someone in?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. First time since I got here.”

“It’ll be over soon,” said Gustavo.

It was just past 6am, and the Boyagio was quiet. The halls were empty, and the air had the freshness of a new day. Mark knew there was more going on. He knew that somewhere, a few boys were waking up for their morning shifts. Others were delivering breakfast, and a few were probably going to give “wake-up blowjobs” (a $30 version of a wake-up call—boys were cheap in the morning). In some room, David was being fucked. There were probably a few other boys in all-night sessions, or some bed warmers. But things still felt quiet and contemplative, which was probably why Mark added, “he reminds me of before.” Boys rarely talked about the time before. It was too likely to make them cry.

Mark expected Gustavo to change the subject, but instead the other boy said, “do you remember?”

“Oh yeah,” said Mark, dreamily. “Oh yeah.” He paused, sitting in in the nighttime silence. “I remember mommy and daddy,” he finally said. “They fought a lot, but I dunno, what I remember is all the good stuff. Like, I remember playing a lot of baseball. I used to be in little league. And I remember mommy smiling at me when I came home with my report card if I had As. And I remember going out to the ice cream truck when it came by, the song it played.” He paused. “I never thought I’d be buying my ice cream with tips from... this.”

“So why’d your parents sell you?”

“My mom got sick. Really sick, like, in a coma sick, and my parents couldn’t pay. And my parents fought a lot, but my dad really loved my mom, and he sold me to pay for her doctors. He said she’d probably divorce him for it if she woke up. But I had a younger brother who got to stay back, and I was scared but I kinda thought it was a good idea, like, this way my mom’d get to live and I’d get to live too, and my brother would be free...”

For a while, the two boys sat there in silence. “Do you remember before?” asked Mark, eventually.

Gustavo looked back blankly. “There wasn’t one,” he said.

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Mr. Johnston, he bought me when I was a baby. I dunno anything about my mom, except she must’ve been desperate for money. Or maybe she had a lot of kids and sold them all.”

“Really?” exclaimed Mark. “I’ve heard rumors about kids like that, but I never met ‘em.”

“Yeah,” said Gustavo. “We never have an outside. We’re raised for sex from the beginning. I got my first blowjob probably before I was a month old. Started to get small things up my ass, too. I could hold the tip of a cock in my mouth without biting it before I learned to talk. Got rented out occasionally, if someone liked toddlers, but mostly just got trained.” Gustavo paused, looking off into the distance. “Came here when I was five. I am the _best_ fucker in this whole place. Seriously, I will give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had, because I really was raised for it.”

Mark shrugged. “Are there others too?”

“There are a few kids like me,” said Gustavo. “Usually doesn’t work out too good. You know, Mr. Johnston, when he buys you as a baby, he always asks for photos of both parents, makes sure they’re really pretty, and he doesn’t pay as much, because he doesn’t know what you’ll grow up to look like.” He shrugged, then added bitterly, “It’s always about making money. Anyway, I’m lucky.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” said Gustavo. “There were no ice cream trucks, no movies, no parents for me. Just teachers, who taught me how to have sex. But it’s all right. I got over it.” He paused a moment. “David’s the sixth new kid I’ve escorted on his first night, and yeah it sucks, but that’s just the world. It could be worse, y‘know?”


	10. First Night, Part 7 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't, you should read the chapter notes at the start of chapter 2.

**The First Night, Part 7**

_M/b, psychological manipulation_

David had been brought into another room on his leash and released when Mark and Gustavo left for their conversation. In the room was a man, naked. David stood there awkwardly, and equally naked.

It wasn’t a bondage room, at least.

"Boy come here," said the man, in a thick Eastern European accent. He stepped up to the man.

"You are new here, boy?"

David nodded.

"And before? What were you before?"

David caused himself pain when these people told him to. He turned over so they could fuck him. He stuffed dildos up his ass. He was their object. But something in him, something in him did not want to tell this man about what he was like before, when he was a person, when he was a human being, when he was a real boy. He shrugged.

"Speak, boy."

David just shook his head. The man stood up, towering over the boy, and cuffed him with the back of his hand, sending the child sprawling, bare legs splayed out. "Speak, boy."

_Idiot_ , thought David.  _What I was is theirs now, too._ "I lived with my mom and dad. And my brother, Seth."

"Where?"

"North Carolina," said the boy, still on the ground, eyes averted.

“You like it there?”

“Yes,” said David.

“Why?” asked the man.

“I dunno,” said David. “It was nice.”

“Your parents, what were their names?”

It felt like an oddly personal question. Personal. David had been fucked again and again, used by others, he was naked in front of this man, he’d been sold, and now this was  _personal_ . But the man was so big, and he towered over the boy who was lying on the ground.

“Mark,” said David, “and Marta.”

“Mark and Marka?”

“Mar-TA,” replied the boy.

“Stupid names. You love them?”

“Yes,” said David.

“Your parents, they love you?”

“Yes,” said David.

“Bullshit,” roared the man, suddenly angry and animated. He stalked over to David and picked the boy up, holding him in his oversized arms. “Your parents never loved you!”

“Yes, they did!” exclaimed David.

“Bullshit!” roared the man again. “If they loved you, would they sell you? _Sell_ you? To place like this? For money? Pfaw! They care more for money than you.”

“No!” said David.

“Would they sell you to place where I do this” — the man squeezed David’s balls, and the boy yelped — “because I like it?”

“No...” moaned the boy. “Shut up, shut up!” He squirmed against the man’s hold.

“If Mark and Marta loved you,” he whispered into David’s ear, “they would let me do this?” David felt the now-familiar cold, slimy feeling of lube, and he knew what was coming. Again, again, always again. Raising the boy up with his massive arms, the man sat the boy on his lap, on his cock, and started working it in.

“They sold you for money,” said the big man as his cock entered the boy’s asshole. “They sold you because it was... what is word? _Convenient_.”

David whimpered. His hands were rigid, fingers clamped down in pain on the arms of the chair.

“Little boy,” said the man. “No love from Mark and Marta. No one to love you.”

David whispered something.

“What?” roared the man. “Speak louder! I do not hear you when you mumble!” He shifted in his chair, a motion which sent shockwaves through David’s sphincter and brought out another low moan from the boy who was still slowly descending, pulled by gravity on the man’s cock.

“They had no choice,” wheezed the boy, louder than before.

“No choice?” said the man. “What choice is worth my cock up your... _delicious_ ass? Look! Burn marks on your body. Whip marks. What choice?” The man’s hand moved to David’s penis and started fondling it. “What choice is letting man like me do these things to you?”

David sat there, sniffling, impaled on a cock while his own cock was played with like a toy.

“No one loves you, little David.”

“Shut up!”

The man laughed, a rich laugh, loud and broad. His body shook with the laughter, and more pain rocketed through David’s ass. “The response of one who knows argument is lost,” said the man.

“Just shut up.”

“When you are older, you will know it is true. It is story of your life. Could write great novel about it.” The man chuckled to himself. “Great Russian novel.”

David sat there, impaled on the cock, still sliding deeper onto it.

“You will be broken, you know,” said the man. “This life, this fucking, it breaks you. Broken boy turns into broken man. Weak and scared and helpless. Prostitute for life.”

The man started stroking the child’s hair. “Poor boy,” he said. “Poor little boy.” His hand moved down from David’s hair, slowly sliding down David’s cheek, to his shoulder, then down the boy’s arm until his hand was held in a much larger hand.

“Your hand,“ he said, “you know what it will be used for? Now that you are here?” The boy didn’t answer. “Two things. Bringing men like me food and drink and toys, and giving... handjobs, rubbing my cock and my body to make me happy. You are toy. Servant.”

“Nnnnn,” moaned David as the cock slid still deeper.

Suddenly the man pulled David off. The boy gasped. He was lowered to the floor, sides gripped by the man’s strong, firm hands. He was positioned on the floor now, on his hands and knees, with his head forced into the ground and asshole pointed up at the ceiling. “I teach you something now,” said the man. “This is doggy style.”

David braced himself as the cock entered again. The boy was red-faced, sweaty with exertion, penetrated again and again. The man was sweating as well, their sweat mixing together, a lubricant that made their bodies slide against each other. David felt the man’s slick body hair, wet with sweat, slide against his smooth boy’s skin. The man grunted as his cock entered again into the boy. David felt the exhalation of the man’s breath on his back.

_In_ , went the man. David felt his body pushed forward. His cheek rubbed against the carpet. The man grunted.

_Out_ , went the man, just a little bit. David’s body pushed backwards a little bit and the boy breathed at the release. But he knew what came next. He had experience.

_In_ , went the man, sliding easily through the portion of the asshole he’d just stretched, gaining speed, then shoving into the part that was tighter, cock moving inevitably deeper into the boy. Again David’s body was pushed forward, again his face slid along the carpet. “Uh,” he grunted.

_Out_ slid the man as David’s body slid backwards.

_In_ he went, gaining speed then slamming into the tighter part of David’s insides, forcing David’s body to slide forward again.

_Out_ .

_In_ .

_Out_ .

_In_ . The man rocked his hips back and forth, happily fucking the boy.

“Tell me,” said the man, as David’s body was forced forward again by the invading cock, the _In_ , “when you are old, what did you want? For job?”

David just closed his eyes. He was awash in the sensation of his insides being ripped apart by the deepening assault, the slide of his body back and forth, the drops of sweat falling from his hair.

_Out_ . “Tell me!” yelled the man.

_In_ .

_Out_ .

“Speak!” insisted the man. _In_ went his cock. The man reached around, and squeezed David’s balls viciously.

“Ah-yaaaaah!” squealed David.

_Out._

_In_ . “A doctor,” gasped David, voice raw. “I want to be a doctor.”

The man laughed, cock still jammed into the boy. It slid deeper yet. “Now it will never happen!” he said.

_Out_ .

_In._

“Say it,” said the man. “Admit it. You will never be doctor.”

_Out_ .

_In_ .

_Out_ .

_In_ . The man squeezed the boy’s balls again. “Say it!”

_Out_ .

“I will never be a doctor,” moaned the boy. “I won’t.”

_In_ . “You are slave!”

_Out_ . “I’m a slave.”

_In_ . “To think,” said the man, “I am here for this big event.”

_Out_ . “For day your life changes,” he continued his monologue.

_In_ . “Today I fuck on day you lost future.”

_Out._ “Poor boy.”

_In_ . “Say it. Future is nothing but being fucked.”

_Out_ .

_In._

_Out_ .

_In._ “Say it!”

_Out_ . The man heard David’s sobs, the boy on all fours, stomach falling and rising with each breath.

_In_ . “My future is being fucked,” squealed the child.

_Out._ The man laughed, joyous at this admission. “You like toys?” he asked.

_In._ “Yes,” gasped David.

_Out._ “Now  _you_ are toy. But you are less than toy. Toy, you take good care of. You like toy. You are like pencil. Thing to use and throw away.”

The man’s hands clasped the boy tighter, and pulled him in, deeper on the cock. David’s closed eyes shot open as he felt the deeper penetration, and the now familiar jumping of the cock buried inside him as it emptied its sticky liquid within him.

“Ohhhhhhh,” said the man, pulling the boy back and forth along his orgasming cock, “your future, boy. Your future. Your future.”

Of course David was made to clean the man’s cock off with his tongue. All the while, the man kept asking him questions. His best friend. (“Jeff,” said David, when he was finally forced to respond. “Will never see him again,” said the man, and David repeated, “I‘ll never see him again.”) His school. (“Never go there again.”) His brother. (“Never see him again.”) And, of course, the parents he would never see again. (“Sold you. Like animal you are.”)

“What is life now?” asked the man.

“Being fucked,” said David.

“Yes,” said the man. “Yes.”

And finally, after being forced to give the man a blowjob (“you are terrible cocksucker!”) it was over, and Gustavo and Mark came to pick him up. Again they attached the collar and leash, and they led the sobbing boy out.

* * *

David didn’t talk as Mark and Gustavo led him on. He didn’t think there was anything left to say. He just walked, face blank, each foot placed in front of the other. His whole body screamed in pain, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good to resist. They’d just pull him along.

“I think he’s broken in,” said Gustavo, looking at David’s blank stare as they walked.

“Oh yeah?” asked Mark.

“I think so,” said Gustavo. “Let me see.” The boy reached around and simply started pushing a finger up David’s ass. To an outsider, this might seem cruel. To boys in this place, it just was. Respect for bodies, for sex, it was not something they had. And like children, they simply wanted to know. It was, to them, a small thing to do this to another child. After all, it was done to them all the time.

And David... how many times had David been penetrated that night? Fingers had been pushed up his ass. Cock after cock had slid through his anus, up his rectum, even into his colon. (Of course, he didn’t have those words. He just knew it had been  _inside_ . He just knew that things were wrong  _inside_ , that they hurt, that he’d felt stuff inside him pushed aside and out of place.) All those men, all those instruments, had simply been inside him.

To David, now, what happened... happened. He simply did not care. He could not care. If David had the maturity and the perspective to see himself from outside, he would have been amazed at this child who had a finger, a cock, a whatever up his ass... this was just how things were, these things were what happened now, and he stood there, and he took it. He took it as Gustavo moved his finger in and out of his ass. He heard the familiar squelching sounds. He felt the familiar tug and pull on his injured ass. If he’d been feeling anything at all at that moment, he might have felt some relief that it was just a boy’s finger abusing him now.

But the sun was rising. It was  _dawn_ . David had first been fucked nine hours ago. A boy nine hours younger, an eon younger than David, would have been amazed at this child who did not care what happened to him. But David was past caring.

“Yeah,” said Mark. “you’re right. Leave him alone.”

Gustavo withdrew his finger and cleaned it off with a cloth. A distant part of David’s mind, the part that still cared, was relieved the boy hadn’t made David suck it off. He would have done it, if Gustavo had told him to. These were just the things that happened now.

“Am I broken?” asked David, softly.

“It’s ok,” said Mark. “Broken in, not broken. It means... it means you can take something up your ass. It means you can ignore what’s happening to you.”

David didn’t feel like he could ignore it. He just felt like things happened, and he had to, had to, had to do whatever he was told.

“It’s a good thing,” said Gustavo. “You can just get through the night.”

“But am I broken?”

Mark and Gustavo looked at each other.

“You get through it,” said Gustavo.

“Does my mommy love me?”

“Yes,” said Mark. “She does.”

David didn’t respond. He just stood there, blank look on his angelic features, mouth slightly open, eyes drooping in exhaustion. When he was told to pose for photos, he posed for photos. When he was told to eat, he ate. To drink, he drank. To shower, he showered. Everything they told him to do, he did.

And then they took him to the next customer. Of course they did.


	11. First Night: Mark & Gustavo Interlude 3 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, you should read the notes at the start of chapter two.

**Mark & Gustavo: Families**

The hours felt interminable.

Everyone was asleep or working. In the quiet solitude, Mark was troubled. He was haunted by what he saw David experiencing, and he knew he’d have nightmares when he finally went to bed, remembering his own first night nine months ago. “Do you ever think about what it’d be like if you hadn’t been sold?” he finally asked Gustavo.

“No,” replied the other boy.

It wasn’t really an invitation to keep talking, but Mark pressed on. “I do. All the time. To be with my family. To be free, in school. To be a virgin.”

“Yeah,” said Gustavo. “Sounds great.”

“What do you think things would be like if you hadn’t been sold?”

“I dunno.”

“C’mon.”

“I’m glad I was sold,” whispered Gustavo.

“What--”

“My mom _sold me_ when I was a baby.” Gustavo was suddenly agitated, almost yelling. “What kind of mom _does_ that? A drug addict? A psychopath who just cares about money? It’s not like she didn’t know what would happen to me. She _knew_. She didn’t love me. She was fucked up and if she hadn’t sold me, I’d be just as fucked up. So y’know what? I’m better off. It’s a good thing.” His voice broke with emotion. A breath to steady himself turned into a sob. “It’s a good thing,” he said quietly. Mark looked over and saw tears flowing down the other boy’s cheeks. Gustavo had folded his little body into a tiny ball and quietly rocked back and forth.

“Anyway,” said Gustavo, at last, “I’m glad my mom sold me.”


	12. First Night, Part 8 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, you should read the notes at the start of chapter two.

**The First Night, Part 8**

_T/T/T/b, T/b, b/b/b, nonc, pain, music (and some of my hottest sex scenes)_

Author’s note: _This story is now a multimedia experience! Music is played at several points in the story and the reading pace is synced to the songs. They’re all popular songs and available on YouTube, Spotify, etc., so queue them up! For “I Need Your Love” and “Eye of the Tiger,” I recommend that you_ _ **read in time with the lyrics**_ _. For “Crazy in Love,” I recommend just leaving it on in the background but don’t try to time it precisely. Only a few of the lyrics are used._

In the latest suite were two older teenagers, maybe 19 or 20 years old. One of them looked to be tall, thin, and lanky, with a curly mop of black hair. He was sitting in an armchair, and his legs were long enough that even with his feet flat on the floor, his bony knees were above the level of the seat. His ribs were visible along his thin chest. But what David noticed, of course, was that his long legs were lazily spread apart, knees pointing outward, and between them was a naked seven-year-old boy, kneeling, sucking the long, erect cock that hung there. As David watched, the boy took a deep breath, and then he went down on the cock, swallowing the whole thing in one smooth motion all the way down to the end. The boy’s eyes went wide as he held it there, holding it deep down his throat. The man’s head was rolled back as if he was looking at the ceiling, but his eyes were closed, and he was moaning in pleasure. Finally, after what seemed to David an eternity, the boy pulled back, and although he was breathing rapidly through his nose to make up for oxygen deprivation, still his lips were wrapped around the cock in his mouth.

The other teen was more strongly built and muscular, with red hair on his head and his chest. His body entangled with a ten-year-old. The boy was lying on top, hands sliding along the side of the teen’s torso, fingers spread wide as he massaged his customer. The boy’s head was down on one of the teen’s nipples, licking it and sucking on it. His legs were wrapped around the teen’s pelvis, his cock against the teen’s cock, and the boy seemed to be using his legs to propel himself up and down, gliding his whole body along the teen’s, gyrating with the motion. Like his friend, the teen was moaning in pleasure.

There was a smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Each of the two young men had beers open near them.

"Fucking hell," said the one on the chair loudly as he opened his eyes, "that new boy is finally here!"

Gustavo and Mark looked untroubled by what they saw. “We pass custody of David to you,” said Mark, formally, now that their presence had been acknowledged. “It is now 7:48am. We will return at 8:48am.” The two boys left, closing the door on David.

“Did you see that?” asked the red-haired one? He still had the ten-year-old sprawled on top of him, still humping him. “They’re raising prostitutes and bureaucrats here. What a world.”

A third teenager, tall like the first one but muscular, emerged from the bedroom of the suite. He had an angular face and brown hair that looked like it was normally neat and very carefully parted, but he seemed to have been dozing and the hair stuck up in places as a result. A five-year-old boy followed him out, naked like the others, also with wild brown hair. The tiny child absently wiped at his eyes. "Sweet, man," said the teen. He lit a cigarette. The smoke wafted through the room.

"Come here," said the lanky one in the armchair. He waved off the boy giving him a blowjob, and the boy stepped back, looking relieved. The cock hung there, engorged, pointing straight up at the ceiling. It was wet with the boy’s saliva. David suppressed a shiver. He now felt powerful fear even at the sight of a man’s cock. Yet he knew how this worked by now, and so he obediently went up to the teen. The teenager ran his hand along David's tender skin, tracing the shape of his belly.

"Fucking hell," he said. "Look at him."

David just stood alone, naked, alone, and vulnerable. The three young men had all stepped up to him, surrounding him, teenagers towering over the small boy, half again his height. While the teenagers looked down at him, the three little boys who had been servicing them gathered away in a corner, happy to be out of sight for now, whispering occasionally to each other. The boys seemed to look back at David pityingly, almost apologetically. David tried to just stare straight ahead, to lose himself in his mind, to be in the other place. But while the red-haired one didn’t say anything, the other two wouldn’t leave David alone.

"I told you how it works, Greg," said the muscular brown-haired one who'd been in the bedroom. "It's his first night. He's sold by the hour to the highest bidder, and the only rules for a virgin boy are you can't leave a mark that won't go away within a week."

"Fine, but, like, was this really worth a thousand bucks?" asked Greg.

"Dude, this kid is fine caviar,” said the teenager, hand running along David’s chest, pushing his skin one way and then the other. “He's an aged wine. Yeah, he's fucking worth a thousand bucks. Until a few hours ago, he'd never had sex. Hell, he'd never heard of sex. You think it's easy to get a kid like this?"

"I'm just saying he's pretty damaged." Greg poked at one of the wounds, and David let out a slight groan. Still he stood there, still he stared forward, trying to be anywhere else but here.

"And innocent and shattered, Greg," replied the brown-haired one again. "Dude, he's a fucking toy. Sure these other kids are, like, expert cocksuckers, but they're used to it. They don't care." He paused, his hand resting on David's chin, and he turned the boy's head to face him. "You still care, don't you, David?" Boy and teen locked eyes, staring at each other.

David nodded. The man let go, and David dropped his gaze to the floor.

The young man who was called Greg looked down at the child, a naked, hurt boy standing insecurely, shaking from fear and exhaustion, hair slightly covering his face as he stared at the ground. The boy's feet were placed one on top of the other, toes fidgeting, curved over the arch of his feet. The boy's knees were shaking and he was breathing fast. He was so nervous, so alone... "All right, Victor,” said Greg, reluctantly, “he is super hot.”

"Now you get it," said Victor. "Fucking caviar. Fucking foie gras. And we own his ass for an hour."

Greg smiled, ready to play with his new toy. “You’re going to be a lot of fun for us,” he said as he ran his finger along David’s cheek. David pressed his lips together and looked down at the ground.

“A treat,” added Victor.

“A jolly good time,” said Greg, faking a British accent.

David tried to fold in on himself, to be as small as possible, as if the teenagers wouldn’t see him. Instead, it just encouraged them. The smaller and more vulnerable he appeared, the more they were turned on by him. While the third teen still hung back, Victor and Greg just escalated their taunting.

Victor knelt down in front of the boy, looking him in the eyes. “You know we’re going to fuck you, right?” He cupped the shaking child’s balls in his hand.

“You know what that is by now?” said Greg. Just to make sure, he held out one hand in a first, and the other hand with his index finger out; then he brought the index finger to the fist and pushed it in roughly.

Victor started playing toying with the balls in his hand. He leaned down and sniffed them. “Mmmmmmm,” he said. “Delicious.”

“Are you excited, boy? Are you _thrilled_?”

“We’re going to fuck you so hard,” said Victor, “you’re gonna cry for mommy.”

“No,” said Greg, “we’re gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna get knocked out. Literally unconscious.”

“We’re gonna fuck you so hard, your eyes are going to go like this!” Victor made an exaggerated face at David, tilting his head to the side, puffing his cheeks out, and opening his eyes super wide. Greg and Victor laughed.

“Hey kid,” said Greg. “What’s his name again?”

“David,” said Victor.

“David, kid,” said Greg, “why don’t you make that face now so we can see what it looks like? C’mon, show us the face!”

David just stood there, naked in front of the teenagers.

“Don’t you want to make us happy?” said Victor. He spoke in a high-pitched, sing-songy voice. “I bet you know what happens when you don’t make your customers happy.”

David took a deep breath to steady himself, and then he puffed up his soft cheeks and opened his eyes wide. The teens laughed and laughed and laughed at him. Greg patted him on the head like a dog. “Good boy,” he said.

“See, David,” said Victor, placing a hand on his shoulder, “now you’re making us even hornier. Now I think we’re going to fuck you so hard, you’re gonna get torn in half. I’m sorry, that’s just what it’s come to now that you’ve made us so horny.”

“No,” said Greg, “it’s gonna be worse than that. We’re going to fuck you so hard, your brains are gonna leak right out of your pretty little ears.” His big hand was feeling around the boy’s ear, tracing it out. It pulled a little on his earlobe. Then a finger pushed into the ear a little bit.

“Ok, now I have the kid’s earwax on my finger.”

“What’re you going to do, eat it?”

“Let’s make him eat it. Hey David, clean off my finger.” He held it up to the boy’s mouth. David didn’t even hesitate. He opened his mouth with a small _plop_ , took the finger in, and cleaned it off.

“Oooooooooooooooh!” said Greg and Victor together, their voices rising in an exaggerated pitch. Then they pointed at each other simultaneously and both said “Shazam!” It was some injoke that David didn’t get.

“You know what?” asked Victor. “We’re going to fuck you so hard, our cocks are gonna get stuck in there! We’ll be in you forever, boy, and they’re gonna have to just give you to us to keep on fucking you.”

“What do you think about that?” Greg asked the boy. David just stared at the ground, at his bare feet planted below him, trying to make it all go away.

“Hey kid,” said Victor, giving the child a rough shove. “He asked you a question.”

“I...” David’s shaky, high voice came out, “I really want you to fuck me.”

There was silence for a minute, and then both teens started snickering, and then outright laughing. “Oh my god,” said Greg, between laughs, “this kid has had a  _night_ .”

“That was the least sincere thing I’ve ever heard.” said Victor.

“Someone started teaching the brat,” said Greg.

“David,” said Victor, “we _own_ your ass.”

The third teen, the red-headed one, had taken one of David's arms and was feeling along the flesh, looking at each wound. "Guys, chill."

“What?” asked Victor, sounding annoyed. “I’m, like, just getting revved up.”

“He's pretty hurt.”

"Yeah, Calvin, I  _told_ you how it works."

"I'm just saying," said Calvin, "maybe we shouldn't hurt him more. You know?"

"Oh my God," replied Victor. "Are you kidding me? We paid a thousand bucks for this!"

"But, like, look at... I mean, he's just a kid."

“No, now he’s just a _slave_. Just like the _three other kids_ you fucked last night.”

“But look at him.”

"The boy is ours," said Victor. "Bought, paid for, a function of our economy and a service we have earned. There are no refunds."

“I’m just saying...”

“It’s a thousand bucks! A _thousand bucks_! What is wrong with you?”

Greg joined in. "How about this. He’s merchandise, right? Like, we rented him? Let's just refer to him as `it’. That should properly objectify him so that we can feel less moral compunction when using him to satisfy our desires."

"The philosophy major speaks."

“I think it'll be fun. Look,” said Greg, “like this.” He started to gently rub his hand in circles along David’s belly. “I’m caressing it,” he said. He stopped his caress, then said “I poke its tummy,” and he did, the boy jumping back reflexively, back impacting on Calvin’s stomach.

"Oooh," said Victor, "it doesn't like it."

"I slap its ass," said Greg. He reached out and put his hands on David's hips, turning the boy around, then slapped his ass a few times playfully.

"Guys, I'm serious, look at this kid," said Calvin. "Think about what he's been through."

"It's been through," corrected Greg.

"You don't have to have him," said Victor.

"It," said Greg.

“Stop it!” said Calvin. “Seriously.”

Victor continued. "Well, you're not getting your money back, and we are going to have our fun. Now do you really want to pass this up?"

Greg’s hand circled around David’s and pushed it out, rubbing David’s hand along Calvin’s penis, causing it to rise. Greg’s hand wrapped the boy’s warm little fingers around it, leading it back and forth, back and forth, a hot, sweaty, shaking hand massaging the very erect penis.

“Stop it,” said Calvin.

“Your choice!” said Greg, and he pulled David’s hand back. “You can just fuck the other kids while we have our foie gras. But you’re not getting your money back.”

“Tell you what,” said Victor. “Let’s warm up. We’ll hold off on the sex, have some other fun with the kid, then you can decide.”

"All right," said Calvin, at last.

"Thank fucking God," said Victor.

“Calvin,” said Greg, “what turns _you_ on? Like, what’re your fantasies?”

“Uh,” said Calvin.

“He likes dressing them up in girls’ clothing.”

"Dude," said Greg, "that's kind-of perverted."

"You're one to talk," replied Calvin.

"Didn't say I didn't like it! But how did I not know about it!"

“Didn’t you order room service with girls’ stuff?” asked Victor. “We’ve still got it?”

“Yeah,” said Calvin. They went to recover the girls’ clothing.

“Why haven’t you dressed any of the kids up yet?” asked Victor.

“I... I dunno,” said Calvin. “I thought about it with Dylan last night, but...” he started to blush.

“Loosen up, man! Enjoy yourself. We’re on vacation, and these kids are here to serve us. Either that or start drinking more.”

Greg snorted.

They returned with an assortment of clothes and called back the other three pleasure boys.

It was a huge flurry of activity as they started to pick out clothing. David felt one of the young men's rough hands pick up his feet one at a time, putting them into a pair of lacy girls' panties. The hands pulled them up around his legs. Then David felt the hands grip his shoulders and turn him around. "Nice, huh?" said the man. David’s cock was slightly obscured but still very visible through the panties.

Another one - Victor? - came over. Now his hands reached down, felt along the elastic. "No way, man," he said. "You're, like, an amateur." Victor started to pull the panties down. David panicked for a moment; even the panties felt like protection, like a shield against another fucking. But he had no energy to fight it.

Then Victor returned with another pair of panties, red, lacey. These he pulled up David's legs, but they were tight, too small; Victor shoved and shoved until the uncomfortable things were pressing tightly into his waist. "See?" said Victor. The shape of David's small cock and balls were visible through the fabric that was skin-tight against him. These girls' panties were the first clothes he'd worn in... hours? Was it just hours? He marveled at the strange feeling even as the tightness caused constant pain.

David saw that the same was happening to the three hotel boys, their own privates visible through the too-tight, too-thin fabric. He felt the tight elastic chafe against his wounds; his ballsack was itchy, worn; he scratched at it, but the pressure only made him hurt worse.

One of the other boys---David realized he didn't know their names---was being dressed in tight-fitting shorts and a cut-off V-neck shirt showing much of his belly and much of his chest. Those clothes, too, were too small, skin-tight against him, pulling up awkwardly to reveal more skin. Another was being put into a bright red girl's bikini. The youngest, the five-year-old, was being put into a princess costume, a frilly white, exceedingly short dress. His thin boy’s legs were uncovered, visible from the ends of his white socks all the way up to his dress. David realized that child had no panties, so his cock could be seen dangling underneath the very short dress. A tiara got put onto the child’s head. “But no wand,” said Victor, smirking. “You’ve already got all the wand you need.”

David felt himself being put into a short skirt. Then Calvin sealed a tight tube-top around his chest, the fabric chafing against his wounds. His midriff, shoulders, and neck were entirely exposed, and yet still somehow the humiliating clothing felt like a luxury. That was how much his life had changed, that aside from his leash, this was his only clothing since coming here.

Calvin, who had been so reluctant before, glanced around the room surreptitiously. He seemed to bite his lower lip, and then, when he saw that no one was looking, he let his hand slide across David’s stomach. “Oh god,” he said, as he felt the creamy skin underneath his hand.

Greg came over and Calvin quickly withdrew his hand. "Aren't you just lovely?" he said in an affected valley girl voice. Then he guided David's face up to a warm kiss. He turned the boy around to face the others. "Isn't he GORgeous?" David stood there, welts and bruises showing through his exposed skin, eyes downcast. "Whew!" shouted Greg in a playful high-pitched voice as he raised David's skirt to flash the others, especially Calvin, with his panties. “All the boys are just going to looooooove you!”

“So let’s see. What do you do before you fuck a girl? You dance with her!” Victor plugged his phone into a sound system and turned on the music. Victor took the hands of the oldest boy, “old” at ten years old. The boy was in his tight-fitting shirt that was so small it rose above his belly button, and Victor walked him out to the center of the room to dance. Greg handed David to Calvin. “I just know you two will get along FAmously,” he said. “But remember,” he continued, whispering conspiratorially to the other teen, “when you give in and decide to fuck him, you have to _share_!” Then Greg himself took the hands of the kid in the red bikini.

“Oh no, Dylan,” said Victor to the princess, who had moved to the side when he didn’t get picked to dance. “You can dance on your own. I expect to see you twirling a lot! We like what we see when you twirl!”

And then the music started. Calvin Harris’  _I Need Your Love_ blasted out through the speakers.

_I need your love_

_I need your time_ \- Calvin took David’s small hands

_When everything's wrong_ \- into his larger hands

_You make it right_ \- and started to swing,

_I feel so high_ \- to dance.

_I come alive_ \- David was pulled along,

_I need to be free with you tonight_ \- trying to keep up with the taller teenager.

_I need your love_

For the boy, each moment was agony: not just on his feet, but in his ass, as his leg muscles flexed, forcing his bruised, abused interior to move, to shift... Calvin twirled the boy outward until only their extended arms met, and it pulled painfully on David's muscles.

_I need your love._

The boy yelped as Calvin tugged back and he was propelled into the teen's arms, into his dancing. "Nice moves!" called Greg.

David’s hands were warm and moist in Calvin’s hands. The boy was sweating slightly, damp hair plastered on his forehead. He was so cute...

“Now you’re into it!” said Victor.

And indeed, the hormone-suffused teenager, mind fogged by the innocent child, was “into it.” He wasn’t really thinking about his objections. He was thinking about the vulnerable boy in front of him, the way his skirt sashayed, the way his tube top pressed into his flesh and left creases in his belly. They were just dancing, after all, so it was fine, it would be fine, it wouldn’t hurt the kid. Just dancing.

All around him, boys danced with teens who ferociously lusted after them. But even more than that, they  _all_ lusted for David.

_I take a deep breath every time I pass your door._ \- Calvin’s hands reached out and pulled the boy close.

_I know you’re there but I can’t see you anymore._ \- He felt the boy’s heat and warmth against him.

_And that’s the reason you’re in the dark_ \- “Ohhhhhh,” moaned Calvin.

_I’ve been a stranger ever since we fell apart_ \- “Why are you so beautiful?”

_And I feel so helpless here._ \- As they swayed together on the floor, pressed together by Calvin’s hands,

_Watch my eyes are filled with fear._ \- he unconsciously slid a hand into David’s hair, feeling his sweat and heat as he petted the child.

_Tell me do you feel the same?_ \- He held David still closer,

_Hold me in your arms again._ \- awash in peace and bliss.

_I need your love_ \- Bodies adjacent,

_I need your time_ \- Sweaty, hot,

_When everything’s wrong_ \- Calvin’s hard cock jutting out

_You make it right_ \- into David’s abdomen.

_I feel so high_ \- Still Calvin pulled tighter

_I come alive_ \- Forcing David to keep dancing.

_I need to be free with you tonight_ \- Tighter, closer,

_I need your love_ \- skin sliding on skin.

The other boys were all suffering the same molestation, although David was pretty sure it didn’t hurt as much. He swayed to the music with Calvin while his tube top chafed against welts from his whipping. Each step reverberated through the soles of his feet.

_I need your love_ .

David’s skin was so sensuous that Calvin was beside himself. Those big, blue eyes turned up to look at Calvin’s face, and they were so sensitive, so vulnerable, so alluring. The boy danced with both the nimbleness and the clumsiness of a child, a uniquely boyish movement. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted so much to explore more of what this child had to offer...

_Am I dreaming? Will I ever find you now?_ \- Calvin’s hands slid across David’s back,

_I walk in circles but I’ll never figure out_ \- feeling every inch of sensitive skin,

_What I mean to you, do I belong?_ \- massaging and stroking the boy.

_I try to fight this but I know I’m not that strong._ \- David tried to ignore it,

_And I feel so helpless here_ \- even as greedy hands reached under his top,

_Watch my eyes are filled with fear_ \- slowly massaging his sensitive nipples.

_Tell me do you feel the same_ \- “Mmmmm,” whimpered David.

_Hold me in your arms again_ \- “Ohhhhhhh,” moaned Calvin.

_I need your love_ \- Calvin needed to touch it,

_I need your time_ \- hand reaching under David’s skirt,

_When everything’s wrong_ \- feeling through the tight panties,

_You make it right_ \- pressing underneath, squeezing him more,

_I feel so high_ \- a finger that played with his cock,

_I come alive_ \- then around back,

_I need to be free with you tonight_ \- exploring his ass.

_I need your love_ \- Calvin bent down and licked David’s neck.

“Oh my god, I want to fuck you so much,” said Calvin. His hands and tongue pressed all over David’s back, his neck, his face. His fast breathing echoed in David’s ears.

_I need your love._

David saw that the boy in the red bikini had lost his bikini top, and Greg’s hand was buried underneath the bikini bottom. The other one, the ten-year-old, had his shirt pulled over his head while Victor kissed his stomach and chest. The princess danced, twirling, cock swaying wildly as the skirt flew up. Every so often he’d do a kick, showing off his cock even more clearly to one of the teens.

_All the years_ \- “Kiss him!” shouted Greg.

_All the times_ \- “Kiss him, kiss him!”

_You have never been to blame_ \- “C’mon, just one kiss!”

_And now my eyes are open_ \- Calvin’s forehead leaned against David’s.

_And now my heart is closing_ \- David’s breath on his chin.

_And all the tears_ \- Calvin’s breath on David’s cheek.

_All the lies_ \- Calvin hugged David closer,

_All the waste_ \- boy tight against his body.

_I’ve been trying to make it change_ \- He gave in to his passions,

_And now my eyes are open_ \- and they kissed.

_I need your love_ \- “Woo, yeah!” shouted Victor.

_I need your time_ \- “Hot stuff!”

_When everything’s wrong_ \- Boy and man locked together,

_You make it right_ \- lips together,

_I feel so high_ \- tongues together,

_I come alive_ \- saliva mixing,

_I need to be free_ \- warmth shared.

“Su-weet!” shouted Greg.

Calvin needed that warmth, that tongue, that breath, he  _hungered_ for it, he deepened the kiss as the music went on, he pulled the boy close, his tongue joined with this amazing boy... he couldn’t get enough, his hands grasped the boy’s back, seeking any contact with his skin, as his tongue still searched inside, joining their two bodies together, more, more, more.

At last the song ended. Calvin pulled off as the last notes sounded, a string of saliva hanging between their mouths. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed to the boy after he wiped his mouth with his hand. But his other hand still gently stroked the boy, still explored David’s abused body.

“Whew!” shouted Victor as he took a drink of some beer.

“Awesome.”

“So hot.”

“Wasn’t that amazing?”

Calvin just nodded, face flushed.

“Are we ready yet for the real stuff?”

“Calvin? You in?”

“I...”

“Hold on, wait. We have them all dressed up... let’s do a show. Some `girl on girl’, if you know what I mean.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking Ben, Isaiah, and little Dylan here raping the new kid.”

“David.”

“Yeah, raping David.”

“Can we? Like, will they?”

“Ben, Isaiah, Dylan, you know what we want?”

The two older boys looked at each other, and then nodded.

“Then give us a good show, boys, and you’ll get a nice tip.”

Isaiah, the seven-year-old in a bikini, walked up to David. The boy knew what he was doing; in his bikini, he swung his hips and he curved his back sensuously, and all the adults tracked his movements. Isaiah laid his hand on the other boy’s shoulder and whispered, “David, right? I’m sorry.”

People kept saying that to him. He didn’t like it.

That was when Beyoncé’s “Crazy in Love” came on.

Isaiah grabbed David’s arms and hauled him up. David tried to break away, but he was weak. Meanwhile, Ben reached around David’s back. His boy’s hands grabbed David’s head and he pushed David’s face against his own. Then, roughly, Ben kissed him, a long kiss where Ben’s tongue intruded all over David’s mouth.

"What?" mumbled David.

"Now you're our fucktoy," announced Isaiah.

“That’s right!” shouted Greg. The three teenagers were drinking beer, watching from the couch. They all sat next to each other, each stroking their extended cocks.

Isaiah's soft hands felt under David's top, while Ben's hands found their way into his panties, his finger feeling up David's ass. David's body arched forward at the intrusion but the finger still pressed in. As David's crotch tried to pull forward, away from Ben's fingers, one of Isaiah's hands reached down and cupped David's penis through his dress. "Uhhhhh" said the boy. He had nowhere to go; push forward and he was moving his cock to Isaiah, pull backward and he was moving his ass to Ben.

_Got me looking so crazy right now, your touch_

_Got me looking so crazy right now._

Isaiah started to lower David to the ground. Soon the dazed boy was prone on his back. Ben took the opportunity. The ten-year-old lay down on top of David, kissing, touching, caressing, grabbing anything he could. David tried to roll away, but Isaiah held his shoulders. "Stay still, bitch!" he shouted. Ben worked his way down David's body, kissing his neck, his tummy, finally licking his crotch through his panties.

David was in a haze, assaulted by the other boys, no longer sure who was whom. The loud music played around him, surrounding him in even more confusion.

_Got me hoping you'll save me right now_

_Looking so crazy in love_

_Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love_

Ben started to pull down David's skirt and panties. David kicked out and hit Ben on the chest. While Ben tried to wrestle down David's legs, Isaiah punched his fellow slave boy in the face, once, twice. "Stay quiet!" David quieted.

Ben pulled down the skirt, then the too-tight panties, revealing a cock that was red from all the pressure. The boy's tongue came out and gave the cock a solid lick. "Urrm," mumbled David.

“Oh fuck yes,” mumbled Calvin.

"Get his ass, Isaiah," said Ben. “Dylan, get over here!”

The five-year-old in the princess costume scurried up. “Suck on his cock.”

The youngest boy looked scared, but determined. Whatever training he’d received was more than enough, because with no hesitation he knelt down and took the older boy’s cock into his mouth.

"Oh yeah, little bitch," said Isaiah, even though David was bigger than him. "Your ass is mine."

_Got me looking, so crazy, my baby_

_I'm not myself, baby I'm foolish, I don't do this,_

_I've been playing myself, baby I don't care_

_'Cuz your love's got the best of me._

“We‘re just getting started,” said Ben as he came up to David’s head and pulled on his hair. “You bite, you’ll regret it, little bitch. Now open up.” David obediently accepted Ben’s cock into his mouth. He was surprised to see himself thinking, _at least it’s better than the usual._

Isaiah went to the side of the three boys. "Let me turn this asshole on his side," he said. With Ben still getting sucked, and Dylan still sucking, Isaiah pushed David over on his side to reveal his ass. "Nice hole you have," said the boy. "Pity it's mine now."

Isaiah reached out a finger, pushing it in. The already stretched hole took it easily. In went a second boy's finger. A third. "Mhhhhhh," said David through Ben’s cock, his legs twitching weakly.

“Yeah-ha!” shouted Victor. He took another drink of his beer. The image was truly astonishing: three boys fucking a fourth. One in his red bikini. One wearing tight girls’ pants. And one very little boy sucking the child’s cock in a white princess outfit. “This is awesome.” Victor got out his phone and started taking pictures. None of it distracted the professional prostitutes who were abusing David.

“Calvin, don’t you get it?” asked Greg. “That could be us!”

Calvin was leaning forward, elbows on his knees to support him. He was mesmerized, absent-mindedly drinking his beer. “I call Ben’s spot,” he said.  _Weren’t you going to refuse?_ asked a part of his mind.

“Yeah, and I‘ll be Isaiah,” said Victor, “but it won’t be my _fingers_ up his ass, you can bet on that.”

“That leaves the princess for Greg!” joked Calvin.

“Guys, we can fuck him more than once. You better believe we’re taking turns!”

Dylan, all of five years old, was a pro. At the moment he was sucking on David’s balls, but then he moved to the very tip of David’s cock, sucking on it, sticking his tongue out and licking it, playing with the extended pecker in its most sensitive area. His princess tiara scraped against David’s stomach while the young boy sucked.

Ben slapped David on the face. “Suck harder!” he screamed.

Isaiah started pushing a fourth finger into David’s ass.

Dylan engulfed David’s whole cock once again in his mouth, bobbing up and down, effortlessly taking the whole thing in and stroking it inside with his tongue.

“Yeah!” shouted Ben, humping his hips forward into David’s mouth.

Soon Isaiah had a full four fingers in the ass, and the seven-year-old was trying to push in his little boy's hand. David was again writhing in agony, his feet kicking out, but he was covered in boys. "Yeah, bitch!" said Isaiah. "Yeah! Take it all in."

_Got me hoping you'll save me right now_

_Looking so crazy in love_

_Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love._

David squirmed and wriggled on the ground, helpless, as the three boys molested him. His bare legs pulled up in response to the pain in his ass, only to have them pushed down by Dylan. His head rolled back, only to be pulled back onto Ben’s cock. His torso, still dressed in its tight tube-top, was one elegant curve as his body reacted to the pain and pleasure it was feeling. His hands, splayed out away from his body, gripped uselessly at the floor. His ankles kept flexing, and his toes bent forward.

“Oh man,” said Greg, “we’ve gotta wrap this up.”

“What? Why?” asked Calvin.

“We need time to fuck the kid ourselves!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Victor. “Boys, let him up! Calvin, you in, or you out?”

“Muuuuuh,” moaned David in the background as the three boys continued to rape him.

“We said let him up!” called Greg. The boys started to climb off awkwardly once they could stop their little orgy.

“Oh... I don’t know,” whined Calvin. “I _want_ to, but...”

“Look, Calvin, I want you to think rationally about this. David has been fucked... David, how many times have you been fucked?”

The boy was lying on the ground as Greg went over to pull him to his feet and bring him over. “I don’t remember,” whimpered David.

“Okay, he’s been fucked a lot. We’re talking _one_ more time, before he gets trained and spends _a lifetime_ fucking men for money. Seriously, it doesn’t make a difference, except that you get to use him first. Don’t you want to know what that warm, wet, inexperienced mouth will feel like on your cock?”

“I mean... yes...” Calvin’s cock _was_ really throbbing.

“So just do it. Seriously, there’s no reason not to.”

Calvin looked at the small, nervous boy that Greg pulled in front of him. At his big eyes and smooth skin and downcast face. Just then, David licked his lips. It was just a nervous gesture. But it sent Calvin’s imagination into overdrive.

“All right,” said Calvin.

“You’ll do it?”

“Yeah,” said Calvin. “I... yeah.”

“Awesome,” said Victor. He high-fived his friend.

“Wait,” said Greg. “If you’re going to do this, you have to really buy in. You’re not going to go easy on him. You’re going to have _fun_ and you’re going to _fuck him_ like you want to do it and you’re going to remember that this is a slave we bought and he’s an _it_ not a _him_.”

Calvin had been gently stroking his excited cock in anticipation of what was to come. He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “all right. What the hell, if we’re doing it, we’re doing it. I‘m ready to fuck the little bitch.”

“Yes!” said Greg. “Finally!”

Before long, they had positioned David on the bed. Victor was to be the first to perform anal rape, while Calvin got to start with oral. Greg was left watching for the first round.

David was unceremoniously dropped on the bed. Victor’s rough hands turned him over so that he was face down. The teen positioned himself to enter the boy’s asshole. David felt another pair of hands moving his head into position. Calvin had sat just above the boy’s head, legs folded under his thighs, and he was bending David’s neck so the child would be in position to suck cock.

“Oh hell no!” said Greg. “No way!”

“What?” asked Victor.

“You are not putting him on his front. Seriously? That gives me, like, no access to play!”

“You’ll get to go next.”

“Turn him over. Trust me, I’ll do something good you can watch.”

“Fine,” said Victor. Again hands reached out, grabbed David, turned him over, placing the boy on his back. All through it, David just let himself be handled like a sack of potatoes.

“Now Calvin, you sit up here, above his head,” said Greg. “Tilt his head back, yeah, like that, so you can stuff your cock in his mouth, and with the head tilted back, you’ve got straight-line access to his throat.”

“Yeah, all right,” said Calvin, getting into position.

“And me, oh Mr. Sex Doctor, Sir? Do I just fold his legs up to get access to his ass?” Victor pushed David’s legs up, folding him over like a sheet of paper, so that his ass stuck out below him, and maneuvered to insert his cock.

“No, better,” said Greg. He grabbed the boy’s ankles, pulling them up, and David squeaked as his body was raised up. David was 4’1” and weighed about 58 pounds, and Greg easily lifted him by his ankles, feet raised up three feet off the bed, torso forced to curve up off the bed. David hung like that in the air, feet suspended in Greg’s grip, smooth, hairless legs held vertical, running down to his hairless cock which hung limp, upside down on his stomach, pointing down to the bed. There began his torso, still smooth skinned, curving down until it touched the bed at last. Victor and Greg took a moment to admire the boy.

Greg gazed at his spinal column, visible easily through the skin on his curved back, bending gently with his body. He idly wondered to himself at what an astonishing feat of engineering the spinal cord must be.

Victor gazed at the boy’s front, the stomach that curved with his small body, folded, creases in the skin where the flesh bunched up. Victor ran his hand along the jiggly flesh and then shook it playfully, loose flesh wiggling all over. David felt a bit sick to his stomach. The boy was being held upside down with flesh being jiggled wildly. Victor’s hand grazed David’s cock and the cock bounced up and then down, settling into a kind of pendulum motion.

“Would you hurry up?” asked Greg. “He’s not, like, weightless. Get _underneath_ him.”

“Yeah, all right,” said Victor, and settled himself with his legs straight out, cock pointing up to the air, right where the boy’s butt would land. Greg slowly lowered toe hanging child until he was positioned for Victor’s cock.

“Actually,” said Victor, “could you hold his ankles over there so that his butt’s easier to get my cock inside?”

Greg pulled back David’s legs, folding him over once again, until his ankles were just in front of Calvin‘s head. The boy was bent over double.

“Mmmm,” said Calvin, looking left and right. “Boy feet.”

Greg grinned. He used his hands, still holding the ankles, to turn the boy’s feet somewhat so they were pointing a little bit toward Calvin’s face. Raising his voice to a falsetto, Greg bounced the feet up and down so it looked like they were talking. “Hey Mr. Calvin!” he screeched in an Elmo-like voice. “You wanna eat me?”

“Yummy,” said Calvin.

“Boyfeet!” went Greg’s Elmo voice. “Nutritious and tasty!”

Calvin stuck his tongue out and licked the boy’s ankles. “Mmmmmm!” he said. David, bent in two, just sat there. The child had no fucking clue  _what_ was going on, although whatever it was, it sure didn’t feel  _good_ .

Calvin started to suck on the ankle, even biting it lightly.

“Oh no!” went Greg’s Elmo voice as he jiggled the left foot. “Mr. Calvin is going to eat us!”

“He’s not going to eat us,” Greg continued, speaking in a deep Cookie Monster voice and jiggling the right foot. “He’s going to fuck us!”

“Fucking!” squeaked the Elmo voice while Greg shook the left foot. “That doesn’t sound very--”

And then the boy’s body bucked as Victor’s entered his ass. “Uhhhh,” David grunted, and his face became a tight frown. His feet, which had been loose, suddenly tensed, toes tightly squeezing up.

“Oh,” said Calvin. “That’s pretty hot.”

David was... oddly used to this by now. He felt the familiar pain as a cock entered his ass, and the familiar involuntary reaction of his body. A few moments later, he felt Calvin's penis coming into his mouth. By now he recognized both the stench of a man's crotch, and the unique smell for Calvin's. He recognized the tickling of the pubic hairs on his nose. He recognized his own gagging as the thing shoved its way in, and as Calvin, now totally immersed in the act, grabbed David's head and roughly pulled him further down the cock despite the pain it caused.

"Ohhhhh fuck..." said Victor. "This is tight."

"It's like, so raw compared to the other boys. Like, they're refined, they lick it right, but this is just like `oh my God I have a cock in my mouth' and it's just so much more real," said Calvin.

"Look," said Victor, "I think it's crying."

"I hate to say it, but the sobbing is totally improving the blowjob," said Calvin.

"Fuck I'm jealous," said Greg, finally straightening out the boy’s legs, positioning one to either side of Victor. Released from control, the legs writhed under the strain of the fucking, knees bending, curving around Victor’s body. “I’m so getting in on this.” With Calvin sitting up above David, and Victor mostly underneath him, his whole body was exposed...

"No permanent marks," said Victor. "You don't want to know how much that'd cost."

By now David's body was a slave to the men's rhythm. His head was moving back and forth along Calvin's cock, while his ass was moving back and forth along Victor's. The two had started to sync up, and David fell into a haze of rhythmic motion, his head pushed back against his neck, then his pelvis lifted up, then his head pushed back, over and over again.

Greg had come up and his warm hand started to feel along David's stomach. He prodded at the electrical burns and the whip marks. He playfully slapped the stomach across its wounds, and the boy recoiled.

"Fuck, man," said Calvin. "I think I felt him start to bite!"

"Oh yeah?" asked Greg. He leaned down to David's ear. "Listen, you little shit, you hurt my friends at all and I'm going to hurt you even worse than you've been hurt so far. The rest of our time will be all about causing as much pain as possible. You understand?"

David somehow managed a nod through the face fuck.

"Let's test it, shall we?" said Greg. He slapped David's tummy again. The boy's legs curled up, squeezing against Victor, and he shifted his body in pain.

"It's good!" said Calvin. "He caught himself before biting."

Greg slapped the tummy a couple more times. More shifts from the boy, but Calvin continued unscathed.

"Hmmm," said Greg. He reached down and cupped David's balls. "Mmmm-mmmm-mmmm-mmmm!" came a muffled cry from David, the fearful shout coming in rhythm with Calvin's thrusts. Then Greg squeezed. David's legs kicked out at the air behind Victor. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" came the exclamation muffled by the deep throating.

"Oh my God," said Calvin, "when he tries not to bite me his tongue does the most amazing thing to my cock."

"His whole ass contracts," confirmed Victor. "Keep doing what you're doing."

But instead Greg got up and left the room. "What the hell, man!" called Victor.

"Music!" called Greg. He returned shortly and plugged his phone into the sound system. "This is gonna be fuckin' awesome."

"Remember," Greg said to the boy, "you bite my friend's cock even a little and you'll suffer worse than anything yet."

Suddenly the opening beat to Survivor's Eye of the Tiger started playing, and Greg, who had also brought back a pair of drumsticks, started tapping out the rhythm on the boy's stomach.

Tap-t-t-Tap-t-t-Tap-t-t-Tap-t-t-Tap-t-t-Tap-t-t-Tap... went the drumsticks, matching the bass guitar of the song. David shifted uncomfortably as the sticks fell upon his unprotected skin.

But it was when they got to the entry of the other guitars that David truly started squirming, trying to escape but with nowhere to go with two men fucking him. WHACK! Whack whack WHACK! Whack whack WHACK! Whack whack whaaaaaaaaaack went the drumsticks, ending with a rolling pitter-patter of whacking to match the longer note. As the song continued to ramp up, Greg kept on using the doubly-fucked boy as an instrument, tapping out the background rhythm and then WHACKing along with the other, louder notes, growing in intensity each time.

"Ohhhhhh fuuuuuuck," said Calvin. "It's... it's reacting. Like, each beat makes him jump a bit and his tongue massages... oh man, oh fuck."

"His whole backside is gyrating to it," said Victor. "Oh man."

The three teens were swaying to the beat. The room was filled with sounds: the blasting music, the slurping boy on the cock, the suction of a cock in his ass, his moans of pain matching the impact of the drumsticks, the drumsticks hitting his exposed flesh, and the sighs of ecstacy from the men.

Calvin had positioned himself directly over the boy’s face, so that his weight pushed his cock in, and he was rising and falling to the beat, pushing the cock in and out with the rhythm of the song. Victor, too, timed each thrust to match the beat, so that the pulses came into David’s mouth and ass at the same time, pushing in unison on his worn sex holes.

Whack whack WHACK! Whack whack WHACK! continued the drumsticks. The teens pushed their cocks deeper and deeper.

"Rising up, back on the street" sang Greg, getting into the song, whacking along with it.

"Did my time, took my chances" the three sang together as they fucked the boy.

"Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet, just a man and his will to survive." The drunk, off-key singing rang out.

Whack-whack-wh-wh-whack!

"So many times, it happens too fast." WHACK WHACK. The kid was so  _warm_ .

"You trade your passion for glory."

"This is a party!" shouted Victor, somehow managing to take another drink in the middle of everything that was going on.

"Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past."

"You must fight just to keep them aliiiiive!" they sang together.

Whack, whack, WHACK!!!

"It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival. And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us all in the" --- the sound of the drumsticks escalated as Greg hit harder and harder to match the crescendo --- "EYE" --- Greg let a drumstick fall hard on the boy's abused balls with the beat. As the boy issued a muffled scream, and Calvin said "Ohhhh...", Victor and Greg finished with "of the Tiiiiiger."

"Calvin, did he bite you?"

WHACK whack WHACK whack WHACK whack WHACK whack!

"Nooo, he stopped himself. Greg, this is fucking incredible."

"Face to face, out in the heat. Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry." Calvin joined back in singing.

WHACK whack whaaack whack WHACK! Having already gotten quite a bit of mileage out of the stomach, Greg now moved down the legs, hitting them with the drumsticks, matching the rhythm.

"They stacked the odds, till we take to the street, for we kill with the skill to survive."

Whack wh-whack whack!

Whack whack WHACK! "It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight. Rising up to the challenge of our rival,” they sang in unison. “And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us all in the EEEEEEYE" whack wh-whack wh-wh-whack SLAM on the balls --- muffled shriek --- "of the tiiiiger".

Up, down, up, down, up, down, bounced Calvin, matching the beat. Each time he lowered his body it pushed the cock deeper, deeper into David’s throat, all the teen’s weight behind each push on the savaged child.

Whack WHACK whack WHACK whack WHACK wh-whack-whack-whack WHACK!!

"Rising up, straight to the top. Had the guts, got the glory." Whack wh-whack whack whack. "Went the distance, now I'm not gonna stop. Just a man and his will to survive."

Whack whack WHACK! "It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight. Rising up to the challenge of our rival. And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us all in the EEEEEEYE" whack whack whack SLAM on the balls --- muffled shriek --- "of the tiiiiger".

_Squelch_ went David’s ass as Victor pulled in and out. Whack, whack whack WHACK, whack whack WHACK, whack whack WHAAAAACK. "The eye of the tiiiger!"

Calvin looked up at the ceiling in pure bliss as his cock went in on the suffering boy’s mouth. Whack, whack whack WHACK, whack whack WHACK, whack whack WHAAAAACK. "The eye of the tiiiger!"

“Mmmph!” said Victor as he gave a hard push to really get his cock all the way in. Whack, whack whack WHACK, whack whack WHACK, whack whack WHACK. "The eye of the tiiiger!"

By now the motion of two of them had changed, their cocks pulsing as if to the rhythm of the music, Calvin pressing David's face deeply against his cock, Victor pushing in with all his force, and they came, they came hard, their sperm flowing into the boy like two rivers from each end. Greg alone sang the final "The eye of the tiger!" as his two friends finished and slumped over.

"You guys have no stamina," Greg taunted. Europe's "The Final Countdown" came on. "Just think how much fun this one would've been."

As Calvin withdrew from David's mouth, he ruffled the boy's hair. "You were great, sport," he said. "Now drink it all down or we'll hurt you even more."

"Man," said Victor, "you got over your little moral crisis pretty well."

"It's the good of the many, man."

Victor patted the boy on the stomach as he climbed out from under the limp boy. "You were great." Greg and Victor laughed and stood up as David curled up on the bed in an overdue effort to protect his beaten and sensitive regions.

But Calvin... Calvin looked down at the moaning boy and his face softened. As his cock softened, he changed, and the weight of what he’d done hit him. “David,” said Calvin seriously, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I want you to know that I’m really sorry. I know that hurt a lot, and... I’m sorry.”

Behind Calvin, Victor started to snicker. Greg turned to Victor, and Greg couldn’t resist smiling too, and then both burst out in side-splitting laughter. Greg doubled over, trying to breath through his laughs; Victor just said, “oh my God, are you serious?”

Calvin turned around, red-faced. “What?” he said. “ _What?_ ”

His two friends were still too busy laughing, their chortling echoing through the room. Finally Greg managed to speak. “Dude, first of all, that was like the most insincere apology I’ve ever heard.”

“How would you know?”

“Calvin, your cum is, like, still drying in his esophagus. It was _three fucking minutes ago_ , and I use all of those words literally. Unless you experienced a moment of major moral enlightenment during your mega-orgasm, I don’t think you’ve exactly seen the error of your ways.”

“I am genuinely sorry for him,” said Calvin indignantly.

“Wow,” said Victor, “mega-orgasm. It’s so true. That was like the biggest orgasm I’ve ever seen from you, Calvin.”

“All right, being sorry _for_ him is not the same as a genuine apology. But even aside from that,” continued Greg, “your flaccid little penis was down his throat like three minutes ago, while Victor was deep up his ass, and you were telling me, and I quote, that it was `fucking awesome’ right as I was pounding on his _balls_. When you pulled out, you threatened to hurt him even more. And you think an apology now is going to patch it all up?”

“I didn’t mean that!” said Calvin, face beet red. “I just... oh, fuck you!” The teen walked out.

Victor rolled his eyes.

“We knew what he was like when we brought him,” said Greg.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Victor. “He paid his way. You wanna talk to him?”

“It‘s my turn with David,” answered Greg.

“All right,” said Victor. “I’ll go.”

Victor left the room as Greg stepped towards the boy. David lay on the bed. There was a visible outline of wetness, of the boy’s sweat, traced out on the sheets, but now David was balled up in a fetal position. It was the kind of tight ball that only a child can do, a smallness that simply requires the flexible body of youth. Even as the boy held himself tightly, his body was still shaking from all its abuse and covered in a dry, clammy sweat.

The words the teens had uttered had echoed hollowly in his ears, words of a strange, terrible parallel universe that he now existed in. He didn’t really understand half of what they were saying. He just endured, because that was all he could do. But he had learned, too, to notice the things that were now relevant to his life, and as he looked up, he noticed that Greg’s cock was  _rock_ solid.

It was huge, and it swung in front of him like a giant weapon, sticking straight out as he approached the boy. David thought about running, he really did, anything to avoid what had just happened, but he told himself that he was too tired, too hurt. The truth was, he was just past caring, he was in some other state of existence, one that was just pain, and fucking, and the empty times in-between. He thought about trying to go back to the other place, that blissful other reality in his mind, but that last fucking had been too much, had forced him back to reality, had torn that safety away from him. He just lay there, naked, balled up, tiny. He stared at anything but the man in front of him, and he chose the wallpaper. It looked so normal, he thought.

Greg reached him and pushed his knees down. The boy didn’t even resist as Greg stretched him out, leaving a sprawled, limp boy on the bed, tiny cock lying loosely on his stomach. David still didn’t resist as hands reached down to his sides and flipped his body over. His legs got entangled with each other as he was turned over; Greg straightened them out. When he was turned over, one arm ended up underneath him; Greg pulled it limply out. He straddled the boy, erect penis lying parallel to the spinal cord on the child’s back. Greg ran his man’s hands along David’s smooth child’s back. The boy shivered.

Still David just lay there as the hands ran along his body. Now that he was face-down, he realized that drool was leaking out of his mouth, making the pillow wet underneath him. He didn’t care. He thought he felt a tiny bit of Calvin’s cum oozing out of his throat and back into his mouth. He didn’t really care about that, either. He just lay there.

“If we had more time,” Greg said, “I wish I could really explore your lovely body. You’re an amazing catch. But we really do have to get right down to business.” His cock, solid like a bar of iron, throbbed on top of the boy’s back.

He shimmied down a few inches, until he was hovering above David’s ass. He spread David’s butt cheeks with his hands, applying lube to the stretched, dilated asshole. It was overextended into a cock-sized hole from Victor’s fucking a few minutes ago, a pink, red, and dark chasm that was already prepared for a new cock to go inside. Small ponds of Victor’s cum collected along the lining of the anus. A bit of the cum had started to seep out, pushed by the natural forces inside the boy’s ass. It was dribbling down the valley of his butt crack towards the bed.

_Man,_ thought Greg,  _they must have really good cleaning services for the bed sheets around here._ He laughed a bit to himself at the strange thought.

And then he lined himself up, and he inserted that eager cock into the ready-stretched asshole. It easily slid in to the boy’s rectum, into his large intestine.

“Oh fuck Victor,” said Greg, “you lucky bastard.” Greg speared right into the boy, like a spoon through a jar of honey. Like a light saber, he thought, through pretty much anything. Greg heard the soft squelch of Victor’s cum inside the boy’s ass, and he felt it lubricating his journey through the child.

Greg closed his eyes and leaned his head back in bliss. His rigid cock was implanted in the most splendid tightness he had ever felt. Inch after inch extended into the child. It was not just the wonderful sensation and pressure of the young boy’s warm and wet anus, although certainly that was a big part of it. It was also his sense of power, the strength of his bulging erection, the solidity of his cock.  _Speared_ , he mused,  _is the right way to describe it._ It was as if he’d pushed the fucking Washington Monument up the boy’s ass, that was what his cock felt like.

David’s emotions, meanwhile, had turned tumultuous. Under such stress, his mood had swung from one extreme to another. During his “Tiger Fucking” (as the teenagers would forever refer to it), the pain had been so intense, the concentration required so high, that there had been no room for any other thoughts at all. Then he’d thought simply to endure. He’d thought that he didn’t care about anything. Now he was being fucked again. He didn’t know if Greg would bring just fucking or also pain, but he assumed he would just live it, just endure it, as he did over and over again.

Instead, as yet another cock was shoved up his helpless ass, he suddenly felt the enormity of his new world. He felt the way that he’d changed, and he didn’t like it. He felt the utter futility of his life and how it would forever be merely enduring, merely surviving the fuckings. He could see no future, no purpose, no reason for anything. It was not just that he was not human, although it was true that he was not human anymore. It was not just that his whole existence had been reduced to this brutal use by other people, that he had no more control over his life, or that no one, at all, in the whole world, still cared for him. As that cock slid into his ass, as it entered so easily into the overextended hole, as it once again pushed everything into the wrong places and filled him up and made him feel just  _wrong_ , David realized the truth. That his future was this. He couldn’t be anything else. He couldn’t do anything else. He couldn’t achieve anything else. There was no more pride in who he was, no more friends, no more love, no more dreams.

Softly, quietly, the boy started to sob into the pillow. Once he’d thought he didn’t care. Once he thought he could enter into the other place. Now, the overwhelming sadness was all that he could feel. Tears leaked from his eyes and made the pillow damp. They joined the drool from his mouth, the sweat from his face, and that small backflow of Calvin’s cum that had come back up his throat, all seeping into a hotel pillow that had seen it all before.

Greg noticed none of this. He did not see David’s tears, nor did he know the emotions the boy felt.

“Victor, you were so right,” said Greg. “This kid _was_ worth all that money.” The teen rocked his hips forward, shoving his Washington Monument deeper up the boy’s ass.

His hands gripped the boy’s sides, pulling him helplessly back and forth on the cock. He swore that he could feel lumps in the lining of the child’s rectum where the kid’s organs were pushing on his cock. He knew he could feel the pulse of the boy’s blood, his heartbeat, each beat throbbing against his cock, sending new waves of pleasure to his teenage mind.

He had the boy helpless, skewered, skewered on his monument, on his iron rod, on his broadsword, on his Eiffel Tower... every time David squirmed, or moaned, or shifted to try to get more comfortable, he felt new sensations of rapture deep inside him. Greg’s eyes were still closed, his mouth agape, his mind lost in euphoria. He was so unaware that little drops of spit fell from his open mouth to land  _pit-a-pat_ on David’s bare back. He kept unconsciously pulling the boy back and forth, using the boy to hump his overstimulated cock.

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” moaned the teen, still lost in ecstasy as the boy stimulated him. He felt his cock lengthen, ready to cum, but he held it back, he held it back although it hurt, desperate to prolong this feeling a little bit longer, desperate to stay deep inside this child for as long as he could. He had to stop the sensation. He let go of the boy so that he no longer pulled him back and forth, so the boy’s body would no longer be used to hump his cock. Greg placed his hands on the bed to hold himself aloft.

He desperately wanted more, more feeling, more motion inside that tender anus, but he waited, he held himself still, he waited for the sensation to pass. His breathing ran fast, sucking air in and out amid the overwhelming sensations. He felt the overwhelming urge for release but he held it in; he felt his cum push to escape but he held it in; he felt his penis throb to let it out but he held it in. He held perfectly still, knowing the slightest sensation could push him over the edge. The boy shifted underneath him and he felt himself nearly lose it. “STOP MOVING!” he snarled, and landed a sharp blow on the boy’s back that itself nearly made him cum yet again. (David, still face-down in the pillow, understood none of this. He was confused, but he knew better than to question what men told him to do. He struggled to contain his sobs, to stop his motion.)

Finally, finally, finally, it passed. His cock softened slightly and then went hard again in the boy’s anus, but now his engorged penis was not about to come. He had bought himself precious minutes, and he was still so beautifully impaled inside the boy, buried within him, surrounded by him. His penis was again stimulated by the pressure from all sides, the squeezing of the tiny rectum against his throbbing cock, the squeezing that took over his whole mind, that occupied his every thought, his every desire. “You are so tight,” he said, breathlessly.

  
Again he spent beautiful moments just embedded in the child, just feeling the wonderful hard push of that small chasm within the boy. He let out a joyous breath as he enjoyed the feeling, letting the experience overtake him.

Still, he knew he wanted more. He opened his eyes and prepared to really stimulate himself, an effort that he knew would pay off. “All right, David,” he said, “get ready.”

With that, he rocked his hips backwards, pulling his cock out ever-so-slightly. The suction of the tight hole resisted him, like removing the cork in a wine bottle, but he pulled out against it. He heard the squelch of Victor’s cum inside the boy as he slid out against it, the thin liquid barrier between his cock and the boy. The rough walls of David’s rectum, made slippery with lube, rolled against his hard cock, friction dragging against his cock, all the while pushing, pushing, pushing against it. It aroused him beyond all measure; now part-way out, he had to stop for fear of cumming once again. He gasped, again breathing fast, until finally he had calmed himself, until he had regained control.

Now he pushed into the boy, pressure building on his cock as it disappeared into the child’s asshole, the beautiful friction of the rectum walls and the stickiness of his friend’s cum sliding along his cock. The boy squirmed and waves of sensation raced through him. “Oh fuck yes.” He entered all the way in, deep within the child. “Oh fuck yes,” he whispered.

Then again he pulled back, again the pressure, the friction, the squelch of Victor’s cum, the suction of the boy’s plugged hole. Greg’s face was twisted with feeling, pleasure coursing through his system, short breaths racing in and out of his open mouth. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” he repeated in rapid succession.

In he went, sliding through cum, sliding against friction, pushing against all resistance. He looked down and watched his cock disappear into the child. He was planted deep again, deep in this child’s body, deep within, inseparable, a part of the child forever, something that could not be removed. He gasped. “Yes!” he shouted. “Yes yes yes!”

He pulled out, pressure, friction, and squelch; in, sliding along the cum, feeling the pressure grow; out, the boy’s ass pulled up, pulled up by the friction between cock and rectum walls; in, pushing down, flattening the boy against the bed; out; in; out; in. Sliding slowly with his big cock in the tight hole, sliding slowly with his instrument of pleasure squeezed tight on all sides, tight, tight, tight! He moaned with pleasure; he breathed faster and faster, gasping for air; he joined as one with this boy’s body that reacted so wonderfully to every intrusion, every push. The boy who moaned, the boy who squirmed, the boy who wiggled underneath him.

It was too much!

Suddenly, Greg’s cock lurched forward, ready to cum. “Uhhh!” cried David. “Not again!”

The strange comment only turned Greg on all the more. As the boy’s back reflexively arched up into an almost parabolic shape that pointed his head up to the ceiling, as his child’s muscles became taut with the movement of his body, as David gasped sharply and drew in breath, Greg’s eyes widened and his cock throbbed forward and he started to cum deep into the boy.

_Pulse, pulse, pulse_ went the cock.

“Uhhhhhh,” moaned David as the spasms of the cock showed him once again that there was nothing left to his pitiful life but this.

“Yaaaaaa!” shouted Greg, in ecstasy, a huge grin on his face, wild joy in his eyes.

_Pulse, pulse, pulse._

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” cried David.

Greg savagely thrust his hips forward into the child to keep the feeling going longer, to push his sensations up to the next level while he still could. He felt his cum gushing out, mixing with Victor’s cum still deep inside the boy.

_Pulse, pulse, pulse._

The warmth of the boy was joined by the warmth of his cum, the wetness of the boy and of Victor’s cum was joined by the wetness of his own cum, his own cum inside this boy, dominating this boy, his cum that surged from this rock he’d inserted into the child, from his monument, his cum that said  _I own you, I am the man, and I put my seed where I like_ .

There was still much David did not understand about sex, but he understood that. The child could feel the viscous, sloshing liquid inside of him. He didn’t know how he could feel it but he could, the liquid that dominated him, the liquid that stole his humanity.

“Fuck yeah!” shouted Greg as the profound tightness slid past his cock, slid along it, stimulating it and massaging it, the tightness of this feeble child and his tender anus and his opened rectum, the tightness that slid back and forth, squeezing him and making him mad with lust. “Fuck yeah!” he shouted again as his cum poured out, what felt like gallons, gallons dumped into the boy, deep inside him where it would never come out, where it would become one with the boy and mark him forever, like a sign that said _I was fucked by Greg Paulson_. Still Greg’s cock pulsed and tore into the boy, pushing and shoving against every surface in the tight hole, forcing its way deeper as it throbbed and pulsed.

“Take it, take it you little bitch, take it, take it!”

_Pulse, pulse... pulse..._ and then it was over. The cock that was once the hard weapon became limp, the last drops of cum oozing out into the hole. Greg pulled out of the boy who was as limp as when they started and he rolled over.

“Dude,” said Victor from the door, “you always _scream_ when you orgasm.”

“How long have you been watching?” asked Greg dreamily.

“Long enough to have a pretty serious hard-on.”

“Well, you’re going to have to fuck one of the other kids, ‘cause our hour with him is just about up.” And sure enough, there was a knock on the door.

“Awww, fuck my life,” said Victor.

“Man, you ever heard of the expression `first world problems’?”

“Yeah yeah,” Victor grumbled. “I know, I have to fuck the normal rentals instead of the virgin boy. Cry me a river.”

“I’m glad you have some perspective on the situation. Now would you please get the door?” The knock repeated.

“All right, all right. Coming!” called Victor, and he went out into the main room.

Greg lay back, cock limp, enjoying the simple in-and-out of his breathing. His phone, still plugged into the sound system, was on the same playlist as before. Queen’s “We Will Rock You” was playing. He hadn’t even noticed. Maybe he should have chosen something more recent. He hadn’t even been born when this stuff came out. He could’ve played something he was listening to when he was David’s age. That would’ve been fun...

David, meanwhile, was simply laying on the bed. He didn’t know what he could be anymore. Nothing was open to him. He’d tried being brave, but that hadn’t even lasted one fucking, not really. He’d tried escaping to the other place, but he couldn’t stay there, not when his ass was being pounded, not when he was being electrocuted, not when he was being used as a drum. He’d tried not caring, but it broke through, the emotions always broke through. Nothing he tried worked.

And his body? In the last thirty minutes, this eight-year-old boy been gangraped by three other boys dressed as girls; he’d been fucked from both ends to the tune of  _Eye of the Tiger_ while every inch of his body, and especially his cock, was beaten with drumsticks; and then Greg had fucked him, and while that had been just a normal fucking on some level, on another level it had been more, deeper, making him feel even more wrong inside than before. Something new had broken. His body felt used up, useless. There was nothing left. Nothing left...

Greg sat up. “Time for you to go,” he said to the boy. He grabbed David by the wrist and dragged the trembling child to his feet, and astonishingly the boy could stand up. David winced as his tender feet touched the ground; he’d forgotten about the beating they’d taken in everything else that had happened. He could feel something wrong with his insides, and he nearly threw up when he was forced to be vertical. He felt his arm being pulled by Greg. He felt the pain of every step in his feet, in his thighs, in his ass. Worse yet, whenever he stepped, he could feel that thing wrong with his insides hurting deep within his body. He thought it was getting worse. Still, he followed where he was pulled, shivering and moaning.

There were Gustavo and Mark, his minders standing there, just like always. David had changed so much. He was so much less than he was before, while they were the same. Nothing had happened to them.

He heard the  _click_ of the collar and leash on his neck.

Slowly, painfully, he stepped out of the room following the other boys. Although he was beaten, naked, and leashed walking through the hotel, he didn’t care. Each step was painful. He took them anyway.  _I’m broken_ , he thought to himself,  _just like the man said._

He wondered, briefly, why the leash was necessary, but he didn’t have the strength to ask.

They walked to the room where he was prepared for the next customer.


	13. First Night: Mark & Gustavo Interlude 4 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, you should read the notes for chapter two.

**Mark & Gustavo: Waiting, Part 2**

“I am so tired,” said Gustavo.

“Me too,” said Mark. “But it’s worse for David.” David was with another customer. Mark remembered his own first night. How it went on forever. He was pretty sure he still didn’t have as many customers as David.

“Boy, stop thinking about him,” said Gustavo. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Mark shrugged. Gustavo continued, “So what should we do now?”

“I dunno,” said Mark. He was lost in his own thoughts, thinking about David, about his first night, about so much suffering.

“Wanna fuck?” asked Gustavo.

“Not really,” said Mark. He shrugged. “I can give you a blowjob if you want.”

“Sure,” said Gustavo.

The two boys were professionals. Gustavo simply removed his pants and underwear and they lined themselves up. Mark took in Gustavo’s cock. The boy moaned in pleasure, body rocking back and forth. He humped his hips forward into Mark’s mouth. Mark sucked, ran his tongue along the cock, and toyed with it. Every so often he’d pull off, suck on Gustavo’s balls, or lick at the cock, or maybe some other body part nearby. He massaged Gustavo’s body with his hands. Soon Gustavo was lost in pleasure, and eventually the tiny boy’s cock orgasmed into Mark’s mouth.

“Not bad,” said Gustavo. “Let me blow you.”

“It’s ok,” said Mark.

“No, c’mon.”

Mark didn’t want to. He wanted to not do anything. He was so tired, and just... upset. But he didn’t want to be a problem.

“Fine,” he said.

So Mark stripped off his pants, and Gustavo went down on him. The olive-skinned Latino boy really was good. He built up to it, warming Mark up, licking and playing and getting the other boy excited. His fingers twirled in patterns along Mark’s skin, shimmying under his shirt, massaging and stimulating. Mark felt his desire genuinely rise, and Gustavo hadn’t even taken the little cock into his mouth yet. Then, suddenly, it was in, surrounded in warmth, a powerful sucking that stopped, and turned into a simple licking. Gustavo let it out of his mouth, the erect cock waving in the cool air, saliva drying on it while the boy went to Mark’s balls and started to suck on them.

“Holy shit, you are good,” said Mark.

“Fuck yeah,” said Gustavo. He smiled with pride. While one of his hands worked on Mark’s still-slick cock, he was licking the inside of Mark’s thighs. Then suddenly the cock was again in Gustavo’s mouth, being massaged by his tongue, bursts of sucking energy used every so often to pull on it, stimulate it just a little bit, then let it relax ensconced in the warm place. Then again would come the sucking pull, stimulating it, drawing it out. Gustavo’s hands pulled Mark close, their bodies intertwined; Mark felt his legs curl around the other boy trying to keep him even closer.

Gently, Gustavo held out a single finger, gently rolling along Mark’s balls, tickling them ever so slightly while he sucked on the cock. And then both hands were on Mark’s back, pushing the boys closer again, as Gustavo took in the whole of the other child’s cock and sucked with powerful pressure. Gustavo let up for a moment, pulling back, focusing his tongue on the glans, and then again the whole thing, again the powerful suck; then again on the glans; then again the suck; repeating and repeating, Mark humping his hips forward, the two locked in the skilled cocksucking until finally Mark burst forward with a grunt and dry orgasmed into the other child.

Gustavo grunted. “Man, kids take so long. Men always cum so much faster.”

“You’re pretty awesome. I don’t usually get off on other boys.”

“Thanks,” said Gustavo. “Happy to do it anytime.” The two boys separated, lying there half-naked together.

“Why do you like giving blowjobs so much?”

Gustavo stopped, thought for a bit. “I dunno,” he said. “I mean, I don’t know if I love it, but I guess I don’t hate it, for a friend.”

Mark nodded.

“Besides,” said Gustavo, “I’m good at it. And it’s what I was raised for. I mean, I’ll probably be doing it for the rest of my life, just working for myself once I’m out of here.”

Mark’s thoughts drifted back to David. What would David think of this? Of him and Gustavo having sex together? What would Mark himself have thought of it nine months ago?

It felt strange to think of it. Of that change.

He felt guilty, too. Guilty that he took pleasure while the other boy suffered so much.

Mark sighed, and got up to put on his clothes. They had to pick David up.


	14. First Night, Part 9 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, you should read the notes at the start of chapter two.

**The First Night, Part 9**

_M/b_

Somehow, David walked. He walked to the room where he was fed, and given water, and cleaned up for the next customer. He hurt all the time. Gustavo and Mark insisted that he eat and drink, even though it hurt for anything to go down his throat. It hurt to shower, because the water hit against his whipped and bruised skin. It hurt to sit, both because of the touch of his butt against the chair, but also because of the pain inside him, in his internal organs, from his repeated fuckings so deep up the ass. It hurt to walk, because of his electrocuted feet, but more because of those same fuckings. Like sitting, standing moved things around inside him, things that were bruised and squished and out of place. Every step hurt.

He thought about saying he couldn’t walk anymore, but Gustavo just said they’d get a wheelchair. And so he walked. He walked out of the room, limping, and he walked to the next customer.

When he arrived, David collapsed to the floor, exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically; overwhelmed with pain; and confused. He was beyond all endurance and he had nothing left inside him. He was broken. He didn’t know how he could survive this, and he didn’t want to. A man would touch him, speak with him, fuck him, and perhaps finally it’d be over, perhaps finally his body or his soul would just give in. As the boy lay there, unmoving, his thoughts were simply empty. He simply existed in the now, adrift, empty.

The child winced instinctively when he saw a man leaning down near him and reaching out to him. Warm arms came underneath him and lifted him into the air, gently carrying him to the bed.

David’s body floated onto the soft covers, but the boy knew it was temporary, that soon enough the fucking would begin. The man loomed over him, gazing at his tiny body. The boy’s legs were splayed outward in a V. Little feet were angled up from the bed, the soles bright pink, impossibly fragile toes pointing up to the ceiling. Although the man was still clothed, David saw the rise in his pants. He knew that an erect cock was underneath those pants, and he knew this man was going to fuck him up the ass. He might do worse.

David just lay there. Whatever was going to happen to him was inevitable. He was helpless.

Although David did not know it, the man was conflicted. It was inappropriate, the man thought, to view such a wounded child in a sexual way.

And yet he did. He saw a slim child, with smooth legs, thin, with no flab; his calves were tight, not swinging but firm, and his thighs were slender and elegant. Between the thighs hung the small cock and balls, drawn up against his body but still exposed, and severely reddened and maybe even bruising from the punishment they'd taken. A few hours ago, David would have hidden them, embarrassed. Now they hung there, forgotten or ignored by the beaten boy. The worn child breathed deeply in and out, smooth stomach rising and falling with each breath. The man looked at that body, that fragile weight almost imperceptibly pressing down on the mattress, spread out there, and his desire almost overtook him.

If only the boy wasn’t so hurt.

How long ago had David started his ordeal? Twelve hours? Twelve hours of torture and fucking, and yet what the man saw was a boy who was still sane. Suffering, miserable, hurt, but not empty. Not gone.

The man was still dressed, in a polo shirt and khakis. He left the room and returned, bringing two steaming mugs. He set them on the coffee table and climbed into the bed. David wasn’t asleep, but he had curled up, drawing his smooth legs up to his chest. The man gently reached down and uncurled the suffering child, propping his back up against the pillows so that David was now sitting up. David offered no resistance. He just let his body be manipulated as it had been all night. His only expression was one of discomfort, for any movement hurt him at this point.

“Here,” he said, handing David one of the mugs.

David took a sip, and a sweet warmth worked its way down his throat. “Tea with honey,” said the man. “I thought that after all you’ve been through, it might help. Your throat must hurt.”

David drank down more of the liquid. “Is it over?” he croaked. His voice was sore, cracked from all the cocks that had jammed, time and time again, into the back of his throat.

The boy gazed at the man while sipping from the drink. The man gazed back at this outstanding body extending languidly down the bed: the gentle rhythm as his stomach, still with red welts on it, rose and fell; the length of his smooth body, alabaster skin, velvety to the touch, resting on the silky covers; the way his tiny toes curled together nervously on his tiny feet, little bones extending up to each toe, each small toe-bone making a small tent of his skin as he flexed the muscles there. The man could feel his pounding heart.

“No,” said the man, his face compressed with sadness. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to lie to you. It’s not over yet. There are more, after me.”

David had cried many times that night. He’d cried at pain, he’d cried at the knowledge of his slavery, he’d cried at the loss of his parents. This time was different. This time David wept from the heart. Perhaps it was because of the small kindness this man had offered. Perhaps it was just that for once, he wasn’t being fucked, and he wasn’t being prepared for the next customer; he was just lying on a bed, and someone had offered him tea.

The man reached around David’s shoulders and held him. David flinched away; he’d learned already that the touch of a man was something to be feared. But the man held on anyway, his warm embrace surrounding the boy. Slowly, David let his torso fall gently over, until he was leaning against the man, face propped up against him. Lightly, the man lifted the mug of tea from David’s hands and placed it on the table.

The man felt David’s warmth, and his weight, and his shaking as the boy’s face lay on his chest. His hand wafted along David's cheek: tender skin, damp with tears, that melted under the light touch. He didn’t know how to describe the touch. David's skin was gossamer, the silky softness of spider webs and fresh laundry and a worn teddy bear, all mixed together. There was a halo around it, a halo made of light and heat and innocence, setting the man's skin alight with warmth even before they touched. But it was the child's smoothness, a skin that somehow was gentleness itself, that was truly overwhelming. Sitting there on the bed, the boy's head cradled under the man's arm, both together felt David's heartbeat, his weight, his substance; the man was overwhelmed with the sense that this was a living being resting upon his shoulder, and he found himself awash in feelings.

_Yes,_ thought the man.  _This is the one._

"David," mumbled the man, "you are truly beautiful." Gently the back of the man's forefinger continued to stroke his cheek. The boy was engulfed in the man's embrace, still sobbing.

"Shhhhhhh," said the man. "Shhhhhhhh."

“I want to go home,” sobbed David, voice still dry.

“I know, son,” said the man, “I know.”

“Can you help me?”

The man sighed. “David, I will be honest with you. I can’t help you leave. But I want to take care of you.” He paused, stroking the boy’s hair. “I have a present for you.”

“What is it?” asked David, head still in the man’s chest.

The man took out some chocolate. He’d chosen it carefully, a sweet milk chocolate with caramel, selected so that it wouldn’t harm a sensitive throat. He unwrapped a piece gently and placed it in David’s mouth, feeling the boy’s lips graze his fingers.

“Thanks,” said the boy. The man smiled warmly at the child, a big, toothy grin. He continued to stroke the boy’s hair. The man closed his eyes. The child breathed, in and out, in and out. An eternity passed.

“Can I have more of the tea?” asked the boy, quietly.

“Of course,” said the man, handing it over. As David sipped, he continued. “I mixed in lots of honey. My grandmother used to give us that when we had sore throats, and it always helped.”

Still they just sat there, David sipping the tea until it was gone. Gently, the man took the empty mug and placed it back on the night table.

“I...” David said. He was so confused, his emotions rising and falling with frightening speed within his exhausted body. This had been _one night_ , and all of a sudden, this man’s act of kindness had made him realize that it was the only act of kindness he’d had this whole time. He thought back on the night, and it was all he could do to keep from crying.

What made the boy so sad was more than just the pain he’d suffered. Until now, David had thought most people were basically good. That belief had been shattered by the past twelve hours, and now he was at war with himself. Should he trust this man?

Finally, David spoke. “Can I stay here with you?” he asked plaintively.

The request tore at the man who held him. He hugged David tighter, careful to be gentle, and he kissed him on the head. He didn’t say what he suspected the boy already knew, that the answer was “no.” He didn’t have that kind of power or money to save the child, although he wished desperately that he did. Wished desperately that he could make things right for  _someone_ .

And yet, his dark side swelled up too. He’d held the naked boy for almost twenty minutes and he’d kept it down. Now the boy said everything he wanted to hear. He hated himself, hated that he had these desires, hated what they’d driven him to do, and hated what was left of his life.

The man closed his eyes and calmed himself. He settled his breathing. He managed to keep any erection from showing through his jeans, for he knew that would spook the boy. He felt dirty.

Carefully, the man lifted David off of him and set him back on the pillows. “One second, son,” he said. He went to the other room and returned with a jar of something. When David saw it, he winced. He didn’t know what it was, but he figured it was whatever people kept putting on his butt before they fucked him.

“Open up!” said the man.

David did. Of course he did. He knew this man would want something, knew what was going to come. Or he thought he did. So he opened his mouth, and closed his eyes, ready for the cock he would have to suck.

When the spoonful of honey landed in his mouth, he opened his eyes in surprise. The sweet syrup flowed through his mouth, and it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. It drizzled down his throat, coating it in a thick ooze. It felt wonderful.

For the first time in over 12 hours, the boy smiled.

It was a slight smile, barely worthy of the name, but the man found that it completely changed his image of David. The boy’s face was just...  _different_ . He seemed, briefly, like an eight-year-old child should seem. The man saw David’s bright white teeth showing through the tiny smile; over the teeth was a gold-hued coating of honey. There was a trail of honey running up David’s chest and chin where it had dripped off the spoon. Even David’s eyes, though they were bloodshot, seemed to glint in the light of the room now that he was smiling.

_He’s happy_ , thought the man to himself.  _Just leave it be. Just stay like this for the rest of the hour._

_I had a plan,_ he countered to himself.  _It’s for the best, for both of us. I knew what this would be._

_But look at him._

The man felt the familiar self-loathing rising up inside him. He’d made a decision.

“David,” he said at last, “I want to be a father to you.” David didn’t respond, so the man continued. “Would you... would you call me `daddy’?”

“But you’re not my dad,” said David.

“I mean, I don’t want to… I... you don’t have to, it’s only if you want to.” The man took a deep breath. “Look, David, I... I’m here for you. I... love you, and... I want you to love me too. Your dad, he left you here, he sold you. I want to take care of you now.” The man’s hand gently stroked the child’s hair. “Please?” he asked.

The beaten eight-year-old child lay there quietly. The man worried that he’d overstepped. Or had the boy fallen asleep? If he’d ruined this...

“All right,” David finally said.

“All right, what?”

“Daddy.”

The man smiled a huge smile, and he kissed David on the forehead. Then he hugged the boy warmly but gently, again not upsetting the wounds, just holding the child in warmth. “Thank you, son,” he said. “I love you.”

David nodded. It was probably the best reaction he was going to get, the man figured. But then the boy started to cry.

“Shhhhh,” said the man, trying to comfort him. “Shhhh. What is it?”

David looked up. In a small voice, he said, “I don’t want this to be my life.”

The man nodded. “Sometimes things happen that we don’t like.”

“But this is my life!” said David. “I’m a slave now, and I’m going to get fucked by everyone, and...”

“Shhhhh,” said the man. A part of him wanted to tell his son not to use adult words like that... but that was dumb. “Having sex,” the daddy said instead, “it doesn’t always have to be bad.”

David just shrugged.

“David,” said the man, “can I try something?”

“Sure,” said the boy.

The man crawled down, held the boy’s cock in his hand, and took it into his mouth. The cock was tiny, and limp, but warm. He took the small thing and rolled it along his tongue, pressing it against the roof of his mouth, sliding it around as his saliva built up. He slid it left, slid it right, slid it left again, gliding it along his tongue, tiny buds rolling along the boy’s sensitive skin. The man pursed his lips around the little cock and he started to suck, pulling the tiny organ forward, floating in the much larger mouth.

Looking to stimulate the child as much as possible, daddy reached up and ran his hand along David’s stomach, circling slowly, massaging it, caressing and stroking him ever so gently; the hand moved up slowly, reaching to David’s nipples, rubbing them lightly, fondling them, fingers moving back and forth on the now pert little bumps.

And still he sucked on the little cock, and finally, finally he felt the abused thing rise, become more erect, more filled in his mouth. He felt David’s body respond, at last, to his attentions. One of the boy’s thighs shifted underneath the man. David’s arms slid back and forth along the sheets. He brought a knee up, foot planted now on the bed, opening up his crotch further. The man heard the boy moan lightly.

He stopped a moment. “Is it good?” he asked.

“I guess,” said the boy.

“Should I keep going?”

“Ok.”

And so daddy dove back on to the boy, taking in the cock once again. It was still firm. The man sucked. He sucked with all his might, pulling on the little cock, lengthening it within his mouth. He ran his tongue along it the base of the penis, and then he used his tongue to encircle the boy’s sensitive glans, squeezing it with his tongue. “Uhhhhhhh,” moaned the boy, his eyes closed, head back into the pillow. Again the man sucked on the cock, pulling on it. He ran his hand along the boy’s raised thigh, kneading it, sliding his palm along it. David rocked his thigh back and forth.

“Is it good?”

“Yes,” said David.

The boy was injured, and sometimes his daddy would accidentally come across an injury and have to stop, let the boy calm down, and resume. But still he sucked. He sucked on the tiny little cock, the cock that slid around within his mouth, side to side in the stark pressure chamber above his tongue, sucked and pulled and stimulated and massaged and loved. David moaned again, his body turning on the bed, the man holding it in place with his hands. The boy’s knee jerked suddenly, awash in the strange feelings inside him. He’d brought his hand to his face and was sucking on his thumb even as the man sucked on his cock. “Ahmmmmmmm,” moaned the child. “ _Slurp_ ,  _slurp_ ,  _slurp_ ” came the rhythmic sucking of his daddy’s mouth.

David humped his hips upwards.

His daddy sucked, and sucked, and sucked. The boy kept humping his hips upward, up, up. The man grabbed David’s butt, pushing his little cock deeper in his mouth in time with the motions, and he sucked.

“Ooooohhhhhhhhh,” went the boy, a huge lungful of air escaping from his frame, and still he humped his hips forward, and his cock jumped, and the child had his first dry orgasm. The cock jumped and jumped and jumped in his new daddy’s mouth.

And then finally, all was still. David lay back against the pillow, breathing heavily, thumb still in his mouth. The man rolled off the boy and lay there for a moment. The two of them simply breathed.

“Did you like it, son?”

“I guess,” said David.

“I’ll take it,” said the man, smiling again. He crawled up on the bed, running his hand playfully through David’s hair, and kissing him on the forehead. “You did great,” he said.

“Is that what it feels like for them?” asked David.

“It feels better, son,” said the man. “When you’re older, it feels even better.” He paused. “Look, David, you’re never going to be treated like a person here, not by most of the people here. They’re going to want you for sex, and not so you can have pleasure but so they can have pleasure.”

“Yeah,” said David.

“But you’ll get training, and they have rules. You won’t ever have another night like tonight.” He paused, then added, “I’ll try to rent you when I can, so we can be together. Father and son.”

They sat there for a moment.

“Do you want that, David?”

David thought about it, he really did. He thought about everything he’d been through. He thought about how this man had shown him the first kindness in... in what felt like an eternity. How much better this was than everything else he’d endured.

“Yes,” he said.

“Can you... can you call me daddy again?” asked the man.

“Uh, ok... daddy,” said the boy.

His daddy smiled again. “You are so sweet,” he said.

They lay there for a while.

“Son,” he said, “this is a lot to ask, but... would you be willing to do the same for me? To suck mine?”

“It hurts!” croaked David.

“No, no,” said the man. “Not like that. Not deep. Just the tip. Just a little bit. It feels so good for me, I just really want it, and I promise it won’t hurt.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. For your daddy?”

Even David didn’t know why he agreed to suck the man’s cock. Maybe it was because he’d learned not to say no to any man. Maybe it was because the man had been nice to him, and he wanted to do the man a favor, to make sure the man kept doing nice things. Maybe it was because it just didn’t matter anymore. Either way, David finally replied, “all right.”

“Here, I’ll tell you what,” said the man. “I’m going to put a bit of honey on the tip, and you can just suck that off.” He took the spoon and smeared some honey on the tip of his cock, then he lined himself up to David, bringing his pelvis up so that the boy wouldn’t have to move far.

David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened his eyes, opened his mouth, and put it around the cock.

“Whoa!” said the man. “You don’t have to go quite so far. Don’t hurt yourself. Just the tip.”

It was just the glans, but it was so sensitive.  _It really does have all the nerve endings_ , thought the man.

“That’s so good,” said the man in an airy voice. “Oooooh. That’s so good. Just keep licking. You’re so good.” He patted David on the head, running his hand through the boy’s hair. “So good. I love you, David.”

David wasn’t very experienced, and he wasn’t very good at it. But to his daddy, that was all to the best.

He’d had dozens, maybe hundreds of blowjobs from boys here at the Boyagio. Those boys were experts. They knew every move, every swirl of the tongue, every way to use their hands. They knew how to start with simple foreplay, how to get a man to the peak of his excitement, and how to hold him there for wonderful, painful, neverending minutes; and then finally how to bring it all out in an explosion of energy and passion and cum. They were professionals.

David was not. He had no practiced moves. He sucked, lightly. When his tongue graced the cock, it was by accident. He didn’t use his hands at all. But in that innocence, each move was a surprise, the move of someone who was just learning. It was a sweet newness that would never return. The man loved his son, and he was proud of what the boy was doing now, and he knew how the boy would grow.

What drives a man to love someone? This man, Karl Fresome, did not know. What he did know was that he felt his feelings rising for David. Physical and emotional bonds deepened and fed back upon one another. David’s lips were wrapped around the tip of his cock, and the boy sucked on it. But that did not account for his overwhelming feelings just then. Yes, Karl was attracted to David, but he was attracted to the child in part because of his bravery, in part because of his strength against this awful, unconscionable ordeal, and in part because the boy was doing this willingly. He’d agreed to suck. He’d trusted Karl not to hurt him. David clearly felt a bond as well. And so Karl’s love deepened for the boy, and that love fed deeper into his physical desire.

“Keep going, son. That’s so good,” he intoned. “You’re doing great.”

And so, tiny mouth barely holding the cock, David sucked, and it was still divine for everything it wasn’t and everything it was, and soon the man came. The boy got a mouthful of cum, and he held it there for a moment. He thought to himself, should he spit it out? But other men had ordered him to swallow. And he didn’t want this man, this single man who’d been nice to him, to turn mean. So he forced himself to swallow.

“David,” said the man, “when I saw you, I knew you were something special. I am so proud to be your father.”

David lay there, the man’s feet up against the headboard next to David. He didn’t know what he was becoming, what had happened to his body, whose body it even was. He didn’t know what he thought of this man who had become his father. He didn’t know anything. He just was.

The man climbed off of him.

“What movies do you like?” asked his daddy.

The question, so ordinary, took the boy by surprise. He didn’t answer at first. And then he started to speak. The words rushed out of him, like a shield of normalcy against his life as a slave. “I like  _Shrek_ . And I like  _Cars_ . And I like  _Star Wars_ . I really like  _Star Wars_ , I know that this new movie was coming out, but the original ones were the best, right? That‘s what everyone says.” He paused. “Sometimes I just want to fly away. Like in the Millnium Fallcon... uh, the, uh, Millennium Falcon, that’s right, I could just... sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much.”

“It’s all right, son. It’s all right. I liked hearing it.“

“Ok.”

There was a knock at the door. “Damn it,” said Karl. “Son, you have to go now.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t want to,” said the boy.

“I know,” said his daddy. “I don’t want you to go either. But we don’t have a choice. We’ll see each other again soon.” He sighed. “Do you want another chocolate?”

The boy nodded, and his daddy handed him a piece of chocolate. He unwrapped it and put it into his mouth, and handed back the wrapper.

His daddy stood up, and he helped David up. The man ran his hand through David’s hair, and he reached down, and gave David a quick kiss on the lips. Then he walked him over to the door. After he opened it, Gustavo once again attached a leash to David’s neck.

As David left, he waved back to Karl, to his daddy, and Karl waved back.


	15. First Night: Mark & Gustavo Interlude 5 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, you should read the notes at the start of chapter two.

**Freedom**

_What would my life be like right now if I hadn’t been sold?_ thought Mark. He knew better than to ask Gustavo that, of course.

_Would I play video games all the time?_ He smiled at that thought.  _Be in school? Eat a lot of ice cream?_ He missed his parents. His mother. He didn’t know if she was alive or dead, if his sacrifice had saved her. His brother, the brother who stayed home, who lived, and played, and learned.

Mark had had sex hundreds of times by now. If he’d been home, he might still be a virgin. Hell, he probably would be.

He knew he shouldn’t think about this. He knew he should focus on the moment. But seeing David like this, seeing the other boy so forcefully dragged out of his world and into this one, his whole life lost... it hurt. It reminded him of what might have been if his life had been different.

Of what might have been for all of the boys here, he supposed.


	16. First Night, Parts 10 & 11 (part of the original chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has his first night at the Boyagio, and discovers just what that means.
> 
> Note that when this story was published elsewhere, I published it as one very long "chapter two." I am breaking that across many "chapters" on AO3 for readability and to match the style here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, you should read the notes at the start of chapter two.

The First Night, Parts 10 and 11

_M/b, M/M/M/M/b_

“Just two more,” said Mark to David. David was practically being carried there. He had both arms out, one over Gustavo’s shoulders, the other over Mark’s shoulders, and the two boys were supporting him. He was astonished to realize that Mark was about the same height as him, and Gustavo was only slightly taller. They’d seemed older, somehow...

David was left in the new room and he was able to stand, leaning against the wall. The new man was scrawny, wild-eyed, with a goatee. “Hello there!” he said excitedly. “C’mere, c’mere.”

David managed to walk over. The man gripped him and held him close. With his other hand, he held out his phone and he took a selfie of the two of them. “This is going to be so great!” he exclaimed.

The man seemed to look at David, really look at him, for the first time. “Oh my,” he said, “you’re hurt.” His face seemed to drop for a moment, but then he recovered. “No matter, come on, come on! I want to experience both sides of you, so we’re going to start with some oral, then move to anal afterward.”

And so they went to the bedroom.

* * *

The last customers were, of course, another gangbang. Four men.

They wasted no time. They roughly grabbed the boy and carried him to the bedroom. David knew the story. He knew how this went. He was face down, and one of them roughly grabbed his head and turned it up to receive a throbbing cock. A second man sat on David’s thighs, rubbing lube on the child’s ass. Soon David was sucking the first while the second pounded his ass. Back and forth, back and forth, the rhythm shaking his whole body, taking it over. The taste of cock. The smell of crotch. The tightness inside him as things were pushed aside to make way for a man’s swelled cock. The pain of being torn apart. The sweat all over his body soaking into the bed. The friction of the wet bed sheets as he slid across them, first one way, then the other, as one man pushed into his mouth, then the other pushed into his ass. Their moans of pleasure. His yelps of pain. At least, when he could breathe.

They went so deep inside him. The man before, the one who’d taken the selfie and many other photos, he hadn’t gone so deep. And daddy hadn’t even... hadn’t done anything, really. It had been hours since David had been fucked like this, enough time for his rectum to contract back to its usual size. Now men tore into the helpless boy all over again, stretching him out again, reopening his old wounds.

David felt the hopelessness engulf him again, swathed in pain and misery. With his daddy (was he really thinking of him that way?), he’d felt almost human again. Now his humanity was being ripped away from him, and again all he could think about was surviving, being used, being abused, being controlled.

_In_ went the cock in his mouth, and he gagged painfully.  _Out_ it went and he took a deep breath, preparing again for it to go  _In_ , down his throat, he was helpless again, sputtering, then  _Out, In, Out, In, Out_ ...

_In_ went the cock in his ass, tearing him apart, he squirmed underneath the onslaught.  _Out_ it went with a loud squelch, gaining speed so it could go  _In_ , he kicked his legs out uselessly, he was impaled, then  _Out, In, Out, In, Out_ ...

From both ends, his body was swung one way, then the next, a slave to these men and their cocks.  _It hurt so much..._

And then he felt the throb from the one in his mouth, he knew that feeling, it was pushing deeper, throbbing, attacking him over and over again, until finally it had emptied the cum into his mouth. He knew to swallow even as the rough pounding continued in his ass, shoving him forward, back, forward, back, body sliding to and fro along the bedsheets. The man in his mouth pulled out, and David had precious freedom in his mouth, he could move his jaw, he could yelp, “Ah! Ah! Ah!” with each shove into his ass, his young voice reaching out with its suffering.

And then, of course, the next man sat down and shoved his cock into the boy’s mouth. So it went. So it went for the full hour.

* * *

Everything hurt when it was finally done. A solid hour of four men fucking him nonstop, orgasm after orgasm placed into his throat and deep in his ass. He was sure each man must have gone at least twice, maybe more. They’d wasted no time: insert in as deep as they could, fuck him hard, orgasm as quickly as possible. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Over and over, man after man after man. He’d had so much cum dumped in him, so fast, so deep, so rough.

David’s insides throbbed. His throat ached. It was noon; he’d been awake for over 29 hours, and he’d never been up for even close to that time before. What he’d thought was just sweat on the bed sheets turned out to be red with his blood, where wounds had been reopened by the back-and-forth. No wonder it had hurt so much.

David couldn’t move, not really. He’d had too much. He was done. He was barely conscious. When the other boys returned, Gustavo had a wheelchair with him. The men helped the boys load David in, and then he was off.

Q: Why do people pay so much for virgin boys at the Boyagio?

A: So here’s the first thing you need to know. Some people who go to the Boyagio are really rich. Like, buy first class airline tickets without even thinking about it. Or maybe even have private planes. So if they want a luxury like the first fuck with a virgin boy, they can have it, and the Boyagio makes a shitton of money.

I hear that some people by a whole week with a new boy for around $30,000 if you can believe it, and they get to teach them everything there is to know about sex and get them to like it. Some rich fucks have trained like fifty boys, sometimes two or three at a time! I dont know why the Boyagio charges so much if they're getting free training for the kids out of it. But it sounds pretty sweet, a whole week with a kid who's discovering everything for the first time, teaching him about kissing and sex, and making him love it. A lot of these kids were just sold by their parents, and there's a void you can fill there, I guess.

But the virgins are sometimes also auctioned off by the hour or used at parties, and that's different cause its violent. The boys dont know what's going on and they're suffering. They just lost their family, and now like fifty perverts are fucking them one after the other. You know the sick part? This is what I love.

Why? For one thing, cause I'm a sick fuck who likes boys suffering a bit. I like innocent kids who don't get what's happening to them and are trying to make sense of it all. Just think about how weird it is to be forced to suck on a guy's cock when you have no idea what's going on, and then he makes you deepthroat him? It's total powerlessness. I like how you have to convince them, or force them, or scare them, and how it's more real than the role playing add-ons.

Virgins are also just better. They've got tighter assholes that haven't been worn out yet. Each touch to them is something new, so they're really reacting to it, not practiced or trained. It's genuine.

But y'know what? None of those are the real reason. The real reason I like it is because this is when you can get under their skin and make a real relationship. Think about it. By the time these kids have been trained, by the time they've already been fucked by a bunch of guys, they're prostitutes. They've got the same defenses, the same way of just disconnecting from the situation and letting it happen to them. You can't connect with them, because they're tuning you out. But get in early and you can make a real relationship. You can fuck them up good, and then every time you see them after that, you get right under their skin. Ive fucked five boys when they were virgins at the Boyagio, and they're still my favorite kids to go and rent out for a night and torment a bit cause they feel it. They're actually scared of me. They remember that first time and how I hurt them, and I can relive that whenever I want. Yeah, I'm a sick fuck. But what'd you expect?

\- Carston Laramie on quora.com

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, you've made it to the end of chapter two. That was... intense. I hope that despite (or because of) the roughness you enjoyed it. Chapter three is quite different, and takes an introspective turn as David recovers from the injuries he sustained here. For those who enjoyed the first chapter but found this one to be too rough, these kinds of scenes won't be so incessant in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is ongoing, although once my AO3 updates catch up to what I've written, future updates will likely be quite slow. (Life is busy, and I have too many stories ongoing!) They're coming, though; I was pleased to pick up work on this story again recently.
> 
> Regardless, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I welcome your comments, feedback, ideas, and friendship. You can reach me by e-mail at leonardwriting@gmail.com, or via wherever I posted this story. I've met lots of interesting people through my stories and made some real friends, and I'd love to meet more to chat and get to know who's out there. I am not like any of the adults portrayed in this story, I promise. :)
> 
> As extra incentive, I also maintain a list of people to whom I will send story drafts, behind-the-scenes notes, discarded scenes, and other extras. If you would like to be on this list, e-mail me and ask to be added. I can also share my blog where I talk about what it's like to have the attractions I do.
> 
> I would also appreciate it if you can upvote the story or comment on it wherever you found it.
> 
> I have many more stories (over a dozen, some novel-length) which you can likely find wherever you found this story or by contacting me.
> 
> You are welcome to distribute this story so long as you leave it unchanged and it contains all of the surrounding text, including this text. It is intended to be distributed freely; please do not charge for it.


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